


the otherness came (and I knew its name)

by pumpkinpaperweight



Series: never!tedros au [1]
Category: The School for Good and Evil - Soman Chainani
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Violence, F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mind Control, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Strong Language, Title from a Hozier Song, japeth gets what he deserves, never!tedros, post qfg, tedros can have a little murder..... as a treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:13:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 60,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27007894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pumpkinpaperweight/pseuds/pumpkinpaperweight
Summary: "--I am sending this letter out of concern for Tedros, my son. Over these past nearly seven years, I have found myself somewhat unnerved, on occasion, by his behaviour. In most aspects of life, he is a good-humoured child that most people find charming, but there have been moments where I have found his reactions… disturbing. He randomly flies into passions, becomes possessive of objects, is an aggressive fighter, and lacks temperance. I would dismiss these as merely the peculiarities of a child, but something about them causes me disquiet. When compared to Jacinda’s daughter Bettina, and many other Ever leader’s children, he sticks out as an outlier, far less measured and more prone to lash out. For my own peace of mind, I researched this, and what I found startled me immensely-- stories of Never children born of Ever parents."---tedros is a never, and his father didn't even have the decency to tell him.
Relationships: Agatha/Tedros (The School for Good and Evil), Kei/Rhian (The School for Good and Evil)
Series: never!tedros au [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2122596
Comments: 88
Kudos: 123





	1. PART 1: THE ROADWAY, MUDDY AND FOXGLOVED

**Author's Note:**

> NOTES BEFORE YOU START:  
> this is not very canon compliant. I've added some things and removed others, and the plot is completely different to TCY. If you're wondering why x thing isn't here or thinking you don't remember something else being in the books, it probably wasn't! I made a lot up. Canon is really the very barebones of this.  
> WARNINGS:  
> death, violence, strong language, some blood

**PART 1: THE ROADWAY, MUDDY AND FOXGLOVED**

_ “He is a weapon, a killer. Do not forget it. You can use a spear as a walking stick, but that will not change its nature.” _

_ \-- _

Madeline Miller

_ The Song of Achilles _

**_THE_ ** **NIGHT HIS FATHER DIED,** Tedros had a dream. 

As far as dreams go, it wasn’t a pleasant one. Not that many of his dreams had been, at that age. But this one was particularly bad. 

He had been standing on the very edge of a great glass tower, looking across a bay at a jagged black castle. He hadn’t yet been there, but he knew the place nonetheless. It was the School for Good and Evil, and they were in Merlin’s Menagerie, surrounded by hedge statues of his father. Arthur-- the  _ real _ Arthur-- was standing beside him, staring up at the statues. It was raining. Tedros plucked unhappily at his soaked nightshirt and looked across at the Evil school, hoping they could go inside, soon. He didn’t know what they were doing here.

“Tell me what you see.” said Arthur. 

Tedros looked up at him, uncertain but not surprised. Arthur had become vague and nebulous recently, pitching his son these indeterminate questions more and more frequently. Tedros wasn’t surprised to find that he was doing it in his dreams, too.

“The... School for Evil?” he asked tentatively. 

Arthur looked displeased with his answer. Tedros hastened to build on it;

“I mean-- there’s the School Master’s tower. Beyond is the Endless Woods. Is… is Bloodbrook that way?”

“I meant the  _ School _ , boy.” said Arthur impatiently. “Look closer.”

Tedros squinted through the driving rain at the spiked turrets.

“There’s fires in the rooms, and light in the windows.” he said. “It doesn’t look like anyone’s here in Good, though. Are they all over in Evil? Why?”

Arthur didn’t respond. Tedros looked down at his bare feet on the glass Good turret. His toes were going blue. 

“Father, can we go inside? Please? I’m cold. Maybe if we go over to Evil, they’ll let us in--”

“He does not understand.” said a new voice. One Tedros recognised. 

He whirled, looking for Merlin, but the wizard was nowhere to be seen-- and now, neither was his father.

“I do not wish him to.” said his father’s voice. “I wish that he will never understand.” Shivering, Tedros looked desperately around for them, but he was alone, now. A storm was coming. 

“Some wishes cannot be granted, Arthur.” said the wizard. 

“Father?” called Tedros helplessly. “M?”

They did not respond. 

He sloshed in-between the hedges, searching for them, but they were nowhere to be seen; just more leaves at every turn. 

Starting to get scared, Tedros called out again;

“Dad? Dad, where are you?”

He turned another corner. More statues. This time, Arthur was holding Excalibur at his side, another sword at his hip, and Guinevere in his arms. Tedros looked sharply away from the depiction of his mother-- but the glint of metal caught his eye. He looked back and found that the hedge swords had turned into a real metal, both Excalibur and the sheathed one, gleaming in the moonlight. Confused, he risked a few steps forward, and reached out to touch the nearer sword, Excalibur--

It was sharp. 

Cursing, he snatched his cut hand back, scattering a few droplets of blood onto Excalbur’s blade. Sucking his injured finger, he backed away--

And stopped dead.

For where his blood had fallen, the blade turned black. 

He stared, wide-eyed, as the colour spread across the blade, obscuring the silver and replacing it with a cloudy darkness. Frightened, Tedros opened his mouth to shout for Merlin, Lancelot, anyone--

The statue Arthur hefted his sword and jumped down from the plinth, marching over to him. “Dad?” croaked Tedros--

Hedge Arthur raised the sword. 

Tedros turned and ran. 

There was nowhere for him to go, but he still ran, diving back through the maze of statues, who all turned their heads to look at him as he passed-- and they, too, stepped down and began to follow him. Starting to sob, Tedros skidded out into the open air, slipping on the wet glass as he reached the edge of the tower, hearing the thud of the legions of Hedge Arthur’s feet behind him. Desperate, he turned--

He turned and found the statue of his mother standing behind him, clutching a baby-- him, newborn Tedros from the depiction of his christening. 

That should have been enough to make him angry, but it didn’t. Despite himself, Tedros stood frozen, spellbound by the first depiction of his mother he’d seen for a year, since Arthur had all portraits of her taken down, all statues removed and all carvings with their faces chipped off...

Guinevere stepped forward, coming to stand with him on the edge of the tower. She reached out to touch his face. Shaking, Tedros didn’t try to stop her--

But she did stop. She stopped inches from his face, and turned her head--

Hedge Arthur pushed Tedros off the tower. 

* * *

Now, it was all that Tedros could think about.

“Wait,” said the False King. “Wait.”

On his knees on the cold stone, two guards behind him, bruised and bewildered and  _ shocked,  _ Tedros could only remember the distinct, sickening feeling of falling. 

Rhian turned to the masses assembled below them.

“You don’t believe me.” he said. “Do you?”

The Camelot people jeered and spat and swore at him. Breathless, Tedros desperately searched the faces below, wondering if they could save him. If they shouted down the rest of the Woods people, if they refused to accept Rhian as they’d refused to accept him... 

Rhian bowed his head.

“Ah, understandable. Understandable. I know it’s hard to believe that the great King Arthur’s son could be such a coward. A fraud. An  _ imposter _ . You may question my claim to the throne. I am an illegitimate son, true, but a son nonetheless. Still, Tedros has the legitimate claim. Doesn’t he?”

Tedros’s people screamed to assert it. Tedros looked desperately at Guinevere, who nodded frantically-- he was her son, her eldest son, her only son…

Rhian reached into his jacket.

“Clause Number Three of the First Kingdom Council’s Rulings,” he quoted, drawing a bundle of papers out of his pocket. “ _ Let it be declared thus that no man of a Darke and Wicked Nature may alone wear the blesséd crown of a Pure and Honourable Kingdom.” _

There was a moment of silence as the declaration was processed--

Then Tedros started to laugh.

“You’re going to accuse me of being a _Never,_ Rhian? _Me?_ I went to Good! _You,_ however, did not, so unless you want this to backfire spectacularly--” 

“Silence him.” said Rhian dispassionately, and Tedros’s head was cracked down onto the stone floor of the balcony, a boot coming down onto his neck to keep him there. Several people in the crowd cried out as, with a clatter, the crown of Camelot fell from his head and rolled across the stone. 

Rhian looked down at it, a small smile playing on his lips. 

“Let it lie there, for a moment.” he said. “First, I will show you what I have.”

He turned to the crowd, giving them his full attention, and held the letters up with his free hand. For the first time, Tedros could see Sophie, stood rigidly at his side-- with Excalibur pressed to the small of her back. 

Her wide eyes met Tedros’s.

Rhian began to speak. 

“These writings were passed down to me from Arthur, my father. He trusted that I would use them for Good, one day. Now that day has finally come. I will read them to you, but first, I will show you his seal--”

He held up the letters, exposing the lion crest in the wax. Tedros swallowed. Undoubtedly his father’s seal.

“Next, I will read them to you. The first is a letter sent ten years ago, to select members of the Kingdom Council-- Queen Jacinda of Jaunt Jolie, King Arne of Foxwood, and Empress Mahati of Thicket Tumble among them.”

In the crowd, Tedros saw the Woods leaders look at one another, startled. 

“It reads as follows;”

_ My lords and ladies, _

_ First I must start this letter by begging you to treat the contents of it with the most utmost confidence. I write to you in the hope you will counsel me, but I wish this will remain a private matter for as long as possible. I am sending this letter out of concern for Tedros, my son. Over these past nearly seven years, I have found myself somewhat unnerved, on occasion, by his behaviour. In most aspects of life, he is a good-humoured child that most people find charming, but there have been moments where I have found his reactions… disturbing. He randomly flies into passions, becomes possessive of objects, is an aggressive fighter, and lacks temperance. I would dismiss these as merely the peculiarities of a child, but something about them causes me disquiet. When compared to Jacinda’s daughter Bettina, and many other Ever leader’s children, he sticks out as an outlier, far less measured and more prone to lash out. For my own peace of mind, I researched this, and what I found startled me immensely-- stories of Never children born of Ever parents.  _

_ I am aware this must sound preposterous, but I am deadly serious. I seek not reassurance, but genuine counsel. I must know if I am overblowing the situation, or if I ought to truly be worried. _

_ With respect, _

_ Arthur, King of Camelot, Albion and Surrounding Territories.” _

The second Rhian finished, the crowd were muttering furiously to one another. 

Tedros, lying on the cold stone with the chill starting to seep into his body, thought back to his dream, and his jaw tightened. He’d been less than seven, and there his father was, already paranoid about him. He could never be good enough, could he? Arthur was a  _ fool _ . A ranting, raving fool. No wonder he’d avoided him, once Guinevere was gone. Old  _ coward-- _

“Do you deny that you received such a letter, those involved?” Rhian shouted down to the crowd, and Tedros was jolted back to the current situation. Of course! They could disprove it. It was probably fake, it had to be. His father would never have thought that of him. 

Feeling guilty for immediately lashing out at Arthur, Tedros waited expectantly to hear the news of the forgery...

Instead, there was a pause. The Woods leaders muttered nervously among themselves.

Then, Jacinda shouted up;

“We received this letter!”

The crowd gasped. Tedros stiffened.

Rhian nodded solemnly. 

“I thank you--”

“But I didn’t believe it!” continued the Queen. “I told Arthur he was just being paranoid.”

Rhian smiled tightly.

“Of course you did. It was natural. But after the news of the splintered marriage between Arthur and Guinevere, you didn’t think back to it…?”

The Queen looked rather startled.

“I-- um--”

“No matter.” Rhian flipped to the next paper. “This next document is from writings that Merlin left behind when he fled Camelot.” 

Tedros squirmed to turn his head, twisting until the boot shifted to his back and he could see--

The wizard staring back at him, all the colour draining from his face. Tedros’s heart seized. What had he written, to make him look like that--?

“ _ \--every day, Arthur becomes more paranoid about Tedros, and I struggle to find reassurance. For as often as I disagree with Arthur, I find myself fighting to find evidence against this particular theory. Tedros’s behaviour-- which I do find to be mostly childish impetuousness-- is occasionally highly alarming, but I would not find much stock in it, if it was not for the rapidly declining state of Arthur and Guinevere’s relationship.  _

_ Arthur did not mention this in his letter to the Kingdom Council, desperate to hide it, but I find it the most compelling piece of evidence. Despite what Arthur tried to convince himself, there was no real love in his and Guinevere’s marriage, and it is well-known that Nevers are born from unions with no love in them. In fact, this was one of the reasons that I cautioned Arthur against marrying Guinevere, but to no avail.  _

_ I do not know what will happen. Tedros will be sent to Good, I am sure. Arthur is concocting some half-baked plan wherein he wishes to--  _ the rest of this paper is damaged beyond reading, but it does not matter. I have the evidence for the plan, here.”

He flipped to the third paper as Tedros stared at Merlin, betrayed. The old wizard shook his head helplessly, twisting his beard in his hands. 

“This final letter was sent from the School Master, to Arthur, a few months before Guinevere fled. It reads as thus; 

_ King Arthur, _

_ I have read your suit and I accept your request. The Camelot Beautiful fund, as you refer to it, will be sufficient for the construction of Merlin’s Menagerie and the payments to Abermarle, via Putsi Bank, will ensure that your son remains at the top of the Ever ranks, no matter his performance in lessons. Tedros of Camelot will be accepted into the School for Good, and provided he does not cause any real trouble, I will see that he graduates. I have examined his soul closely, and your suspicions, my lord, were quite correct. The boy has an Evil soul, plain and simple. However, I accept your reasoning as to why he must attend Good, as well as your bribes. I have warned you of the dangers of undergoing this, but I see you are determined.  _

_ For better or for worse, _

_ The School Master.” _

Tedros, shivering on the floor, felt sick--

“You remember his visit, don’t you?” Rhian asked, turning suddenly to Guinevere. “They said it was routine for the School Master to observe noble prospective students. You didn’t believe him.”

Eyes wide, Guinevere slowly opened her mouth--

The urge to stop her rushed up in Tedros, so quickly that he barely realised he was talking until he screamed out;

_ “Don’t tell him! _ ” 

A boot crashed into his windpipe and cut off his air, but it was too late.

“Yes.” whispered Guinevere. “Yes, I remember it. I didn’t believe Arthur when he told me. I was worried.”

Gasping on the cold floor, Tedros swallowed a horrified sob. How could she do this to him? She was  _ proving _ it! Why couldn’t she just be  _ quiet!  _ Of course they remembered it, they both remembered it, and he hadn’t believed the reason either, but--

He hadn’t believed it either.

“ _ You see! _ ” crowed Rhian to the dumbfounded crowd. “You see! Not only is the School for Good and Evil a corrupt institution allowing for bribery and nepotism, the School Master himself  _ confirmed  _ Arthur’s worst fears. Tedros cannot draw Excalibur from the stone because it is Good’s holy sword! It would never allow itself to be wielded by a  _ Never!  _ Tedros cannot sit on Camelot’s throne! I, and I alone, am  _ worthy, because I am Good, and Tedros is Evil.”  _ His voice rose to a shout. _ “HE IS YOUR SNAKE!” _

There was a heavy, horrible, silence. 

Slowly, Rhian leaned over Tedros. 

“And you know it’s true, don’t you?” he whispered. “You know I’m right.”

Twitching and shivering, Tedros opened his mouth to argue, to shout that he’d been framed and his parents and Merlin and Rafal and  _ everyone  _ were fools, but-- but--

He swallowed. 

The argument never came. 

Rhian turned back to the crowd, starting to speak again. Tedros tuned out, eyes unfocusing. It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t. He was the descendant of one of the most powerful Ever lines in history  _ (but your parents didn’t love one another)  _ and he had been first in all of his classes ( _ you failed that test in Good Deeds _ ) and Class Captain (“ _ the payments to Abermarle, via Putsi Bank, will ensure that your son remains at the top of the Ever ranks, no matter his performance in lessons”)  _ and he was Good ( _ always had trouble with the rules though, haven’t you _ ) and he was  _ King _ and he had a true lov--

His eyes refocused. 

Agatha was standing at the front of the crowd, looking up at him, her mouth pinched and eyes wide. 

And he knew she believed it. 

Tedros opened his mouth to shout down to her, to beg her to prove it wasn’t true, to reassure him it was a lie, all a Lie--

The thoughts shrivelled, crushed by his shame. 

He knew well the price of not believing Agatha. 

He stopped shivering. 

Born of a loveless union, impetuous and aggressive and unreasonable from childhood, observed by the School Master, terrible in Good’s classes, terrible with the Good  _ rules _ , drawn to Sophie, a Never, drawn to Agatha, the class witch, taking over as School Master and demanding Sophie’s execution, turning on people in every direction, perceiving betrayal when there was none, putting himself first, always…

And he’d seen firsthand the money drained out of Camelot into the  _ Camelot Beautiful  _ fund, hadn’t he? Sent to an undisclosed location. 

He looked up at Rhian. 

Rhian looked down at him. 

And Tedros knew that he believed it, too. 

Below them, the people began to shout.

“TRAITOR!”   
“LIAR!”

“HAIL RHIAN!”   
“HAIL TO THE LION!”

“DOWN WITH THE SNAKE!”

This time, the Camelot people joined in the shouts. 

So did the Ever leaders-- furious, betrayed, hollering for his arrest, his trial, his  _ execution... _

Tedros went slack against the guard’s holds. There was a pain in his chest, quickly spreading, white-hot and stabbing. Shame? Fear? Misery? He wasn’t shaking anymore. He wasn’t doing much. 

Rhian picked up Camelot’s crown and set it on his own head. The people cheered for him at his ramshackle coronation like they’d booed for Tedros at his supposedly grand one, stamping their feet and chanting Rhian’s name so loudly that the balcony shook. 

Rhian gestured, and the guards hauled Tedros to his feet. As they did so, Tedros caught sight of himself in the glass box, now empty of Excalibur. Filthy from where they’d flung him to the ground, the chains from his jewellery cutting his neck and wrists, his robes torn. Yes, he looked every bit the imposter, rightfully felled from the throne. 

They shoved him to his knees in front of Rhian. Sophie looked desperately at him, and Tedros stared blankly back at her.

How clever Rhian was. 

Clever enough to discover Tedros’s ultimate weakness. Nevermind that he was a coward and a fool and impetuous. 

“Anything to say?” Rhian asked mockingly. “Before I declare your fate?”

Stupid enough to fail to consider what he’d just given him permission to do. 

The pain in Tedros’s chest spread, down his arms, his back, into his hands…

It wasn’t shame, or fear, or misery. 

_ Magic follows emotion. _

It was rage. 

“By my father’s blood, you’ll be sorry.” said Tedros. 

Mirth spread across Rhian’s face--

Tedros stunned the guards. 

With bellows, they tumbled from the balcony and fell into the screaming crowd below. Tedros leapt to his feet and tore into the palace, despite the shouts behind him-- his mother, Merlin, the Coven, everyone-- 

He ran. 

This was  _ his _ castle. They would not hunt him like a dog in his castle, Never or not. 

Tedros sprinted down the desolate corridors, leaping fallen statues and dodging broken floorboards. Rhian was bellowing, still audible above the screams of the crowd;

“CATCH HIM! _ KILL HIM _ !”

More guards burst from the doors, but Tedros was too far ahead. Snarling, he dodged three pirate guards and stunned a third, fingerglow brighter than it had ever been before. The squadron behind him were catching up, so...

He flung a tapestry of the Green Knight aside and dove through the hidden tunnel, practically falling down the staircase, taking them three or four at a time. Shouts echoed behind him as the pirates crashed into one another, all trying to get down the narrow staircase at the same time. Tedros ran on, thinking fast. This tunnel split off-- left to the gates, and right to the stables. They would assume he was going to run for the gates, and that would be the obvious choice, but... he wasn’t.

He took the right one, darting down the stairs in the darkness, only his fingerglow providing light--

Tedros’s foot slipped, and he fell down the last few steps, crashing through the wooden door into a pile of hay. Swearing, he scrabbled to his feet as shouts echoed in the tunnel behind him;

“WHICH WAY?”

“WHERE DOES IT GO?”

Mercifully, the stables were completely empty. Tedros hurried across to the pen at the back of the stable, mind racing. Benedict had been Lancelot’s horse, a knight’s horse. Bred for stamina and strength... and perfectly suited for the exact trick Tedros was about to try.

He unlatched the pen hastily and reached up to grab the great black horse’s bridle, leading him out into the centre of the stables. He’d have to ride bareback, no time to saddle him, no time for anything--

“TAKE THE RIGHT, IT GOES TO THE STABLES--”

Tedros flung open the stable doors, swung himself onto Benedict’s back, and kicked the horse’s flank.

The second he was out into the courtyard, the screams doubled in volume, the people of the Woods scattering, diving out of the path of the great black horse. The Ever leaders dashed for the doors to the castle, only to be tossed into the stampeding mass of their own subjects, whilst the Nevers remained where they were, and Rhian bellowed louder--

“SHOOT HIM! 1000 GOLD PIECES FOR THE PERSON WHO SHOOTS HIM DOWN! 10,000! 100,000!  _ KILL HIM! _ ”

Tedros hunched over Benedict’s neck, teeth clenched, as chaos erupted in the courtyard, people running in every direction. The thunder of pursuing hooves erupted behind him, and he gripped Benedict’s neck tighter, letting him run towards the broken drawbridge. 

When Tedros was young, Lancelot had had a trick. He’d only performed it on tournament days, simply because it was too damn  _ dangerous _ , but Tedros had looked forward to it every year, and begged him to teach him, every year. Every year, Lancelot had told him he’d only teach him when he was old enough. 

He’d not lived to see whatever  _ old enough  _ was, and Tedros had never learned. 

But now, he was about to try.

It seemed that everyone realised slightly too late. Rhian certainly did.

But Guinevere didn’t, and Tedros heard her scream from the balcony, even over the chaos of the crowd--

“TEDROS,  _ NO _ !” 

It had always scared her, even when Lancelot did it. 

The broken drawbridge loomed into view. Tedros tightened his grip on the horse. Benedict snorted, clearly recognising what he was meant to do--

“HE’S GOING TO JUMP IT!” bellowed the King of Ravenswood. 

Tedros gritted his teeth, the hooves pursuing him got louder, someone drew their sword and archers were running onto the ramparts, and--

Tedros kicked Benedict, and the horse jumped.

It was far, and the moat was deep. It was probably  _ too _ far for most horses, and in most cases.

But Benedict wasn’t  _ most horses,  _ he was Lancelot’s horse. And this wasn’t a tournament trick. 

With an impact that rattled his bones, Benedict landed on the opposite side and bolted down the main street. 

Tedros looked behind him, and found the guards stranded on the other side of the bridge, wheeling around and heading for the Eastern Gate. 

They’d never catch him.

Fools, the lot of them.

* * *

“So,” said Sophie, three hours later, standing stiffly between two putrid-smelling guards. “Your twin brother is the Snake, who is very much  _ alive,  _ you’ve taken the throne for yourself, since you are, supposedly, Arthur’s elder son… and Teddy is a  _ Never _ and has fled Camelot alone.” __

“That’s about the measure of things, yes.” said Rhian idly, pouring himself a glass of wine. 

“You’re a fraud.”

“ _ I’m  _ the fraud?” said Rhian, faintly amused. “I wasn’t the one who went to the wrong school for three years because Arthur paid off the School Master, my sweet.”

“You know he had no idea.” snapped Sophie. 

Rhian smiled thinly, and adjusted his crown. 

“Do I? Do  _ you?” _

...no. She couldn’t be sure. 

There was a pause. Sophie glanced around the room, but apart from the two of them and the guards, they were alone. 

“Where’s your new  _ liege?  _ Off hunting some little courtier’s children for his dinner?”

“You’re being remarkably haughty for someone in the position that you’re in.” said Rhian, swilling the wine in his goblet. “I summoned you here to tell you about your new duties leading up to the wedding, not to argue with you.”

“I want to see my friends. What have you done with them? Where’s Agatha?” 

“As I just pointed out, you’re in no position to make demands.”

“You’ve placed two pirates with rusty swords on either side of me.” sneered Sophie. “You know full well they present no challenge.”

“I wasn’t threatening you with physical harm.” said Rhian, setting his goblet down. “The guards are really just for show. There’ll be no need for any of your famous little tricks.”

Sophie glared at Rhian. Rhian looked evenly back at her. 

“You know there’s no hope for you and your miserable little band of misfits.” he said. “Tedros sealed his fate the second he fled the city. An innocent man doesn’t flee.”

“He does if his so-called brother is bursting a vein screaming for people to kill him.” said Sophie sweetly, examining her nails. 

“For all he knew, I could have been about to pardon him.” dismissed Rhian. “He stunned the guards, stole a horse and nearly rode multiple people down before I could get a word out.”

Sophie gritted her teeth. They both knew full well that Rhian had intended to kill Tedros, but since there was no concrete proof…

She caught sight of them in the mirror at the end of the room; Rhian, pristine in his king’s robes and Camelot’s crown on his head, she filthy and dishevelled in her ripped dress, knuckles bloodied from where she’d pounded on the door of the room they’d locked her in.

Seeing him so put-together whilst she looked so ruined...

She shook her head, refocusing. 

“I won’t be your Queen.” she snapped. “You can’t consolidate your power without me, and I won’t do it. I won’t marry a liar and a cheat.”

Rhian hummed vaguely.

“Agatha seems to still be quite happy to marry  _ her _ handsome young liar.” he said. “She bit three of our guards and concussed a fourth before we caught her.” 

Something in the way he said her name made Sophie stop. 

“... _ caught  _ her?” she demanded. “Where is everyone, the dungeons?”

“Yes, most people are down there.” said Rhian. Sophie stared at him. He sighed, sitting back in his chair and putting his feet up. 

“I suppose there’s no hope of convincing you to stand by my side of your own volition, is there?”

“None.” Sophie snapped. 

Rhian bowed his head. 

“I thought so. Well, then, we may need to convince you.”

Sophie clenched her teeth. No matter what he tried, she knew she’d be able to withstand it. She didn’t know the extent of this  _ Japeth’s  _ power, but whatever it was, it wouldn’t be more than hers. No one had ever bested the Witch of Woods Beyond in a fight.

“Tedros was too weak to withstand me.” said Rhian. “He was already cowed from his disastrous six months on the throne. Lancelot’s death only made it worse. It wasn’t very hard to work out how to topple him.”

“Yes, you seem to know everyone’s weaknesses, don’t you?” Sophie scorned. Rhian didn’t acknowledge her.

“But you’re different,” he said. “Stronger-willed. Agatha is stronger still. The two of you will be much harder to manipulate than  _ Teddy.” _

“That’s right.” said Sophie harshly, wondering where this was going. 

“Much harder...” said Rhian softly. “But not impossible.”

Sophie grinned widely, fighting the intense urge to laugh.  _ Her,  _ manipulated? By  _ him? _

“Oh, Rhian.” she said. “ _ Darling _ . I was dragged out into the woods and left to die by the Elders of my own village. I killed the School Master, the wolves and fairies at the School, the Beast in the Doom Room. I reshaped the entire School for Evil in my own image. And you think that you,  _ you,  _ a sadistic little boy with a wobbly claim to your daddy’s throne, can manipulate  _ me?” _

“I know what you’re capable of.” said Rhian, unimpressed. “I know your strengths. You do tend to harp on about them. But it’s like you said…”

His eyes bored into her. 

“Not only do I know everyone’s strengths, I know everyone’s  _ weaknesses _ .” 

He turned to the door. “Japeth, come in here. Bring the Captain.”

Sophie bristled at the sight of Rhian’s pasty double, slinking first through the door with his repulsive snakeskin suit. Who was the Captain, Kei? Two-faced little worm, what she wouldn’t give to smack him silly--

Her thoughts were knocked right out of her head at the sight of the second person, and her heart seized.

“ _ Agatha _ !”

She snatched up her skirts and rushed across the room, barging Japeth out of the way and flinging herself into her sister’s arms without a second thought.

“Aggie, are you alright? What did they do to you? Did they hurt you?”

Though she hugged Sophie back, Agatha didn’t respond, and Sophie found her uncharacteristically stiff. Panicked she’d been injured, Sophie pulled back and scanned her frantically for blood, clutching her hands. But besides a few bruises and scratches, she looked relatively normal--

Then she noticed how she was dressed.

Bewildered, Sophie examined the officer’s uniform. She was sure Agatha hadn’t been wearing this earlier, and it looked new…

She realised that Agatha had yet to say anything. 

“Aggie?” she shook her gently, trying to smile. “Agatha, I know it was a shock, but…”

Agatha glanced vaguely at her, meeting her eyes for the first time. 

“I’m fine.” she said blankly, and Sophie’s heart dropped. The tone was all wrong; none of Agatha’s usual hidden meaning or badly-concealed amusement or exasperation or… anything. There was nothing. It was Agatha’s voice, but there was nothing Agatha about it. 

She tried again.

“What’s this old thing?” she demanded, flicking an epaulette on her jacket. “Where’d this come from? What are you doing?”

“The King has appointed me to guard you.” said Agatha calmly, not reacting to Sophie’s goading. 

Sophie stared at her, bewildered.

“What… Aggie, he’s not the King!  _ Tedros _ is the King! You know that, you… actually, you  _ don’t _ wear his ring, I don’t quite know what you’ve done with it, in typical  _ you  _ fashion, but… well, I know you had some doubts about him, understandably so, but it’s undeniable that he has the rightful claim, he’s the only… only legitimate son....”

Sophie trailed off, voice getting weaker until it stopped completely. Agatha stared straight ahead, having shown no sign of registering her words. She looked unharmed, but there was something wrong.  _ Dreadfully _ wrong. She was standing perfectly straight, her classic slouch eliminated, and all at once there was both an unsettling severity and a distinct vacancy to her expression that Sophie had never seen before, not in all the years she’d known her...

Filled with dread, Sophie slowly turned back to Rhian and Japeth, who were watching her silently. 

“She can’t hear you.” said Rhian softly. 

“What have you done to her?” whispered Sophie. When they didn’t respond, her voice rose to a shout. “ _ What have you done to her?” _

At the continued silence, she glanced back at Agatha--

And caught the unmistakable sheen of a black eel, crawling inside Agatha’s ear.

Sophie recoiled so violently she tripped on her dress and fell to a heap on the floor.

“You--” she stopped and put her hands over her mouth, fearing she might be sick. 

“I knew you wouldn’t co-operate.” said Rhian. “But I knew she wouldn’t, either. For as stubborn as you are, she’s a  _ million _ times worse. Far too clever for her own good, and I never was sure exactly how powerful she was. It’s better to put that brilliant brain on hold for a while, surely?”

At some point, Sophie realised, she had started shaking. Mute with horror, she remained silent as Rhian continued; 

“She’s a symbol of the old rule, Tedros’s Queen-- though, as you quite rightly pointed out, she doesn’t seem to wear his ring. God knows what she did with it. So, my brother and I came up with a plan to make her useful-- to prove she’s loyal to  _ us  _ now, and to show how even those closest to Tedros have turned against him. Captain?”

He addressed this last word to Agatha, who turned sharply to him, standing to attention. 

“In a few days, I will be placing you at the head of an elite unit of soldiers. Your job will be to retrieve Tedros of Camelot and bring him to me, dead or alive. Since you knew him personally at the School, I trust you will be able to predict his actions much better than any of the other soldiers under my command. I give you this task as a chance to prove your allegiance to me, as your King. Do you accept this task?”

“I accept the task.” said Agatha blankly. “I will retrieve Tedros of Camelot and bring him to you, dead or alive.” 

“Most preferably dead.” muttered Japeth. “There will be no problem with that, will there?”

“No problem. Tedros is magically unskilled and will be reluctant to attack me.”

“Why do you think that  _ is _ ?” cried Sophie desperately from the floor. “Don’t you remember  _ anything _ ?”

Agatha turned to her, and for the first time, her blank expression faltered slightly.

“He--”

Japeth raised his hand, and Agatha winced, hands coming up to her head. 

“You remember him as your schoolmate and often had arguments with him.” he said. “You don’t find it hard to believe he could be a liar and traitor. You have no real memories of him besides he broke Sophie’s heart and was an arrogant classmate who often picked fights.”

Agatha’s face struggled for a minute, flat eyebrows knitted together--

Then her expression dropped. 

“He remembers me as his schoolmate.” she said. 

Sophie’s face crumpled. 

Rhian smiled, satisfied. 

“You are dismissed, Captain. Take Princess Sophie back to the Queen’s quarters.”

“But-- but does she remember me?” begged Sophie, accepting Agatha’s hand to her feet despite herself. 

Rhian looked at Japeth, who shrugged.

“She has a few basic memories. She knows you are sisters and best friends. She knows you went to School together.”

Sophie waited for more. 

There was none. 

She looked desperately across at Agatha, searching her face for any kind of lucidity, something that might suggest she had  _ any _ sort of free thought at all, anything,  _ anything _ \--

But all she could see was a blank gaze and the distinct feeling that something was moving behind Agatha’s eyes that was not meant to be there at all. 

“You monster.” croaked Sophie. She whirled towards Japeth, eyes wide, and screamed it;

“ _ You monster! You raving fucking lunatic _ \-- _ ” _

“Take Princess Sophie out, Captain.” yawned Rhian. “She’s in distress.”

Agatha’s hands closed tight around Sophie’s arms, much harder than they ever had before, and the last thing she saw before she was pulled away was Rhian’s grim face, watching her. 

_ I know everyone’s weaknesses. _

Beside him, Japeth started to laugh, and the door slammed shut in Sophie’s face.

* * *

The next morning, Agatha knocked on the door of Sophie’s quarters.

Sophie was already awake-- hunched over the vanity, staring at her unkempt appearance through the curtains of her unbrushed hair. She had  _ tried _ to sleep, but the second she’d put her head down, she’d smelt ginger and overturned earth and had burst into immediate, violent tears. 

She should have thought about it, but it hadn’t even occurred to her until that moment; that had been  _ Agatha’s _ bed, her room for the six months she’d been here, and she knew Rhian and Japeth had put her in here with it unchanged on purpose. She’d found too many things-- ripped stockings shoved under the mattress, a few pages she recognised from Callis’s recipe books shoved amongst the other volumes on the shelf, that horrible charcoal toothpaste she insisted on using smudged on the washbasin, and a ruby pendant tangled at the bottom of the vanity.

Sophie had gone to the bathroom and thrown up.

The idea of facing Agatha again was almost too much to bear. She’d avoided heading out, even when the bell was rung for breakfast, hoping maybe someone else could come and get her…

But she knew no one would. 

Sophie steeled herself.

Agatha knocked again, and she got all the way there, her hand on the doorknob, ready to open the door and face her--

Before she was nearly bowled over with the wave of familiarity. 

The completely mangled, completely wrong familiarity. 

Every morning in Gavaldon, Sophie had come and knocked on Agatha’s door and waited for her, no matter how long Agatha had made her stand on the porch. It had rained and she’d stood there. It had  _ snowed  _ and she’d stood there, waiting expectantly like the most puerile of lapdogs. 

And now everything was completely flipped.

“Sophie, I’m to take you to prepare.” said Agatha from outside. “You’re meeting with the King for lunch.”

Sophie put her forehead against the rough wood of the door, squeezing her eyes shut. She had no idea how much Agatha registered. There was no way of telling whether she even noticed Sophie’s mood. But either way, moping and weeping was  _ not  _ going to help her. Nothing bar killing the Snake was going to help her. But there was no way she could do that alone...

Sophie knew what she had to do. 

She had to play along. She had to let it play  _ out. _ She had to give every appearance of being a perfect Princess. If she didn’t…

Well, she didn’t think she wanted to think about what would happen if she refused, now. The idea of Japeth being able to control Agatha’s thoughts… what else could he do to her?

The idea made her stomach turn again, and she took a deep breath. She needed to get a message to Tedros, wherever he was. He’d come back ready to behead the Snake himself, no doubt. To do that, she needed to let Agatha find him. Rhian was right; Agatha knew Tedros best, whether she herself knew that or not. She would find him, but she wouldn’t hand a message over to him. Sophie needed to plant someone in that squadron who  _ would _ . Someone who was smart enough to play along too, to grovel and cry and pretend she’d been used by Tedros against her will. Someone with a clean slate, who’d not been around long enough to have any history with Tedros...

Sophie tipped her head back, swallowed, plastered a smile on, and flung open the door. 

“Good morning, darling!” she beamed into Agatha’s blank face. “That sounds excellent.  _ Do _ lead the way.”

Agatha did, and Sophie flounced after her, no matter how much the elimination of Agatha’s usual crooked lope in favour of a brisk, soldier-like stride was making her heart hurt. 

“Lunch sounds wonderful,” she continued, grabbing Agatha’s hand so she could lead her down the stairs. “I was rather intending on making a little proposition to our illustrious King. Sounds peachy, doesn’t it?”

“What kind of proposition?”

“Ooh, you know. Wedding things. What kind of dress I might like, who I do-- and most certainly  _ don’t--  _ want there, jewellery, bridesmaids, makeup, decorations, flowers…”

Agatha looked at her.

“Oh.”

Sophie sighed. It seemed that even being possessed could not give Agatha an enthusiasm for party planning. 

How she missed her.

“Yes,” she said brightly. “And I think I know the  _ perfect _ person to help me with it.”

* * *

Tintagel looked almost exactly as Tedros remembered it. 

He dismounted, landing with a splash on the waterlogged ground, and stared through the driving rain at the peninsula before him, jutting out into the turbulent waters of the Savage Sea. 

His father’s abandoned Northern seat. After Guinevere had fled and Camelot had become destitute, the court had abandoned the upkeep of the place and tried to sell it off to the Everwood Architectural Society, in an attempt to consolidate their power in the capital and save money. But the society had refused to take it, finding no worth in a castle lacking in beauty and over-saturated with military fortifications, and so the fortress had been abandoned and left for the rats. 

At first, Tedros hadn’t intended to come here-- he didn’t know  _ where  _ he’d intended to come-- but the idea had struck him once he’d hit the familiar woods to the east of it. The military stronghold had been constructed by kings of old as the final line of defence against invasion from Never kingdoms.

The irony was delicious, really. 

Wiping the rain out of his eyes, he made for the narrow bridge leading to the gates, leading Benedict behind him. He couldn’t say he particularly liked this place. It was a tall, sprawling mess of thick grey stone walls and narrow arrow slits for windows, and all of his memories of it were of him sitting, a little frightened, in the war room whilst his father and his generals argued and Lancelot tried to entertain him with shadow puppets--

Tedros gritted his teeth and tried to shove the thought away, but it persisted. He’d not failed to notice that Lancelot had tended to be much more present in his childhood, compared to Arthur. Usually, Tedros had felt bad for thinking it, and tried to defend his father, repeating to himself that he was busy with his duties as King, and he saw him when he could…

He’d been repeating that an awful lot after Arthur had started ignoring him. 

Tedros had always assumed it was because of his connection to Guinevere that his father had spurned him, but now… it had to have been Arthur’s suspicions finally surfacing. 

His initial thoughts lashing out against Arthur after he’d heard that letter had been  _ right _ . He’d been a child, and already his father had begun to let his prejudices get the better of him. Tedros had always feared his father had resented him, and now it seemed undeniable, if not for the reasons he’d assumed. 

Well, the old fool had died before he’d seen it happen. That could be his small comfort. 

Glaring at nothing in particular, Tedros sloshed through mud to the base of the great wrought iron gates and shoved them, hard. 

They were locked, or possibly rusted shut. Probably both.

Tedros barged them with his shoulder, kicked them, and swore at them, just for good measure, but they were unyielding. Panting, he glanced up at the gap at the top. Too big for any decent number of soldiers, but possibly big enough for one person… if he could get over, he could probably pry them open from the inside. 

Teeth clenched, he jammed his foot into the first gap and hauled himself up. The rusted iron scraped his hands and the rain slapped in stinging waves against his face, propelled by the high sea winds--

He was nearly halfway up before his foot slipped.

He lost his grip and fell the whole way back down, crashing back into the flooded bridge, grazing his hands and slashing a cut into his shin--

And found himself face-to-face with a carving of his father’s likeness. 

Dumbstruck, Tedros stared for a moment, wondering how he hadn’t noticed the carvings before...

He was crying before he could even attempt to stop himself. 

Heaving with sobs, Tedros crumpled into the muddy water pooling around him, clutching his stomach as he doubled over, finally struck with the reality of his situation. 

He was a Never. He, Tedros Pendragon, son of the greatest King of Good ever to live, was  _ Evil.  _ His father, in a paroxysm of paranoia and suspicion, had turned to bribery and thievery and  _ lies _ to try and conceal it from Camelot, from the Kingdom Council, from the Woods--

And from Tedros himself. 

He’d betrayed him. He’d led him blind into this. It was  _ his _ fault this had happened! If he’d been honest, noble,  _ honourable _ , like Tedros had always thought he was, none of this would have ever happened. 

No wonder he was like this. 

No wonder.

“ _ YOU DID THIS TO ME! _ ” he screamed at the carving of his father’s face. 

Arthur’s imperious face gazed stoically past him. Seething, Tedros staggered to his feet and raked his nails across the stone, then did it again, and again, until his nails were broken and bleeding. Shaking, he snatched up a stone and smashed it against the carving, until Arthur’s face was scratched and his nose broken off.

Tedros flung it down, hands trembling. It was even Arthur’s fault he had Rhian to contest with. His  _ brother.  _ His virtuous, noble,  _ honest _ , liege-turned usurper, who’d had him beaten, humiliated, and exposed his biggest secret to the entire Woods.

It wasn’t as if Tedros had been aware of it, either, but in his heart of hearts... he didn’t think he was surprised. Of  _ course _ he was Evil. Of course he was. It was the perfect stumbling block for him, after he’d spent years mistrusting and fighting with Sophie for being the exact thing he was now revealed to be. 

He could refute it. He could pretend to himself, and everyone else, that Rhian was lying. He could live out the rest of his life in denial, carrying on as an Ever, living by their rules. 

Or…

Or he could use it to his advantage. 

Rhian had taken him down, but he’d also given him an opportunity. He now had permission to do… pretty much exactly as he liked. For the whole of his life, he’d struggled to keep inside the perimeters of Good’s rules-- he  _ had  _ to defend, he  _ had  _ to forgive. But now, he could do what he’d always wanted to do, what he’d skirted the edges of doing for years-- attack, take, punish, hurt,  _ hate.  _

But he knew all too well how easy it was for the rules to flip over. He’d attack Rhian to defend himself, and his people. His faithless, foolish people who were far too easily swayed, but his people nonetheless. 

Rhian was clever, but he was also a terrible, terrible fool. 

From now on, he would shoulder the truth forever. Yes, he would-- he would  _ wear _ it, right out in the open, where everyone could see it. Like a cloak, like a mantle, an aegis for him to swing from his shoulders and shake whenever it suited him. It would send them scurrying, all of them! The witless Ever leaders, the peacocking gentry of their courts, their soft-brained subjects. And most of all, this so-called brother of his-- he would banish him back to whatever dark corner of Hell had bourne them, make no mistake.

No longer trembling, Tedros limped back over to the gates. He knew he’d been right to come here. His forefather’s final defence against Evil would be their Never descendant’s refuge.  _ How poetic _ , he thought wryly.

If only he could open these damn  _ gates. _

Scowling, Tedros put his bloody, filthy hand against the gates--

There was a scraping sound, followed by a metallic clang, like the sound of a bolt sliding back… and they began to creak open. 

A memory surfaced, and abruptly, Tedros remembered the first time he’d visited this place; bundled up against the rain on Lancelot’s shoulders, watching with confusion as Arthur nicked himself with Excalibur, squeezing a few drops of blood onto the metal of the gates, which had then creaked open. 

Tedros smiled grimly, watching the gates creak open. It had a blood trace on it. That was it. It needed proof of a Pendragon presence to admit anyone, even a King. 

Well, that was one thing Rhian couldn’t take away from him. 

* * *

“You want…  _ my  _ help with the wedding?” said Nicola doubtfully, that evening. 

“That’s what I said, darling, yes.” said Sophie briskly, arranging the collar of her uniform so it stood up properly. “But we’re sending you with Aggie on her mission, first. To prove your loyalty to the King. And me. Obviously.”

Nicola looked narrowly at her. Sophie glanced nervously at Agatha, stood silently by the door. Those horrible old Mistral Sisters were on the other side-- from what she could tell, they had some modicum of control over Agatha too-- but even if they weren’t, it was becoming more and more obvious to Sophie that Japeth was capable of listening through those he controlled. Sophie had to make sure Nicola wasn’t going to say anything in front of them that might clue him in as to what she was  _ actually  _ trying to do; use the first-year to contact Tedros. 

“...why?” said Nicola. 

Sophie frowned--

Then realised she wasn’t asking about the wedding. 

“Oh, well.” she said airily, thinking fast. “I wanted someone that I really  _ trust _ on the team. Of course, I love Aggie, but you don’t really know or… or  _ care _ about these things, do you sweetie?”

Agatha ignored her. It was too familiar. Sophie gulped and looked back and Nicola. 

“So-o, I want  _ you  _ to get my vision across! Hand over messages, make arrangements on my behalf, be my go-between whilst I deal with things closer to home… you get me, don’t you?”

She smiled manically at Nicola, eyes wide, praying she’d understand…

A flash of understanding passed across Nicola’s gaze, and Sophie all but sagged in relief.

“Yes, I think I understand.”

“Oh,  _ good _ !” Sophie grabbed her hands, beaming, and slapped a huge list of demands into her palm. “We’re going to have a  _ wonderful  _ time, us three Readers! Well, Aggie will probably have a  _ tolerable  _ time, but that’s splitting hairs, isn’t it? But first, your mission! Aggie will brief you, won’t you, darling--?” She dragged Nicola by the hand towards the door. “Come on, I want to know  _ exactly  _ what you’re doing.”

“The King said you weren’t to know the specifics of the mission, because it might upset you.” said Agatha flatly. 

Sophie clenched her jaw as Agatha looked away. No doubt Rhian suspected she might try to interfere. 

But this was  _ Agatha. Her  _ Agatha, not Japeth’s or Rhian’s or even these horrible Mistral Sisters’, scims or no. 

And  _ her _ Agatha told her  _ everything _ . 

Frantically, Sophie raked back through what she knew of Agatha’s remaining memories--

“What?” she scoffed, rushing to catch up with Agatha. “ _ Upset me?  _ The thought of him being killed? Oh,  _ no.  _ Don’t you remember, Aggie? The way he broke all his promises to me? Betrayed me? Manipulated me?  _ Used  _ me?”

She caught sight of Rhian, on the other side of the breezeway.

He was looking at her. 

“Believe me,” Sophie said loudly, staring right back at him. “I’d like nothing more than to see his pretty head on a  _ spike _ .”

Rhian wasn’t the only one who could deal in half-truths.

Agatha blinked.

“Oh. Well. I suppose I can fill you in--”

Behind them, Sophie saw Nicola slip the paper into her pocket, and knew she’d read the wedding brief-- or rather the _real_ mission brief. Scrawled in amongst a hundred other wedding demands for tulle, pearls, glass slippers, lace, peonies and veils, were the words _LET TEDROS CATCH YOU._

* * *

“So  _ now _ you want to help me, do you?” 

The small party jumped as the voice echoed from above them. 

“Lose the theatrics.” snapped Ravan softly. 

Tedros ignored him. Ravan had been wildly useful so far-- coming to him bold as brass yesterday, having tracked him with some spell Tedros had never heard of, and proposed setting up a parley to try and get him Never allies-- but he wasn’t about to let him control all of his actions. 

Ravan’s Sultana of Thicket Tumble, Mahati, responded;

“We were never your enemies, son of Arthur. Forgive us for our inaction the other day. We were as shocked as everyone else. However, there’s no reason for us to take issue with the revelation. You’re one of us, now.”

A pause. Tedros was fairly confident they could see him and Ravan, sitting on one of the west-side balconies, above the main floor of the throne room, but he was enjoying keeping them on their toes. 

“What do you want in return for supporting me?” he demanded. “You want something, certainly. Money? Jewels?”

“No money.” dismissed Mahati. “Nothing outright. We simply think a Never on the throne of Camelot--”

“Political gain, then.” interrupted Tedros. “Extended influence.”

“We’re not honourable like the Evers, Pendragon.” snapped King Arne of Ravenswood. “Yes, we want better treatment and alliances once Camelot’s back on its feet. What’s the problem with that? We’re willing to help get rid of Rhian. We’re sorry we called you pathetic and made fun of you or whatever, but to be fair, you were being pretty useless--”

Mahati stepped on his foot to shut him up. Ravan, next to him, bit back a grimace. Tedros knew why. Goading him had, historically, never been a good idea…

But this was now, and Tedros snorted. 

“At least you’re upfront. What are you offering?”

There was a pause. The two Never leaders looked at one another.

Suddenly, a girl was shoved out into the open, stumbling on the loose cobblestones.

“Go on, tell him--” demanded the King of Ravenswood--

But Tedros had come to lean over the edge of the box, looking incredulous. 

“ _ Bettina _ ?” 

“Before you ask, mother didn’t send me.” said the ginger girl, looking up at him, unimpressed. “I’m working for the  _ Camelot Courier _ . Came on their behalf.”

Tedros blinked. Bettina was a Princess, not a journalist. She’d always been unconventional, but--

“The Courier? Why?”

“I offered them my services after mother and I had a… disagreement.”

“Jacinda supports Rhian, then.” inferred Tedros grimly. Bettina grimaced.

“She says she doesn’t support him, but she thinks it’s best to not question him, so, honestly, what’s the difference--?”

“Sorry, do you two know one another?” interrupted Ravan, impatient.

“Our parents considered betrothing us when we were five.” said Bettina, polishing her Courier badge with her sleeve.

“ _ What-- _ ?”

“Get on with the proposition!” hissed Arne. Bettina scowled at him.

“What’s there to tell? We help Tedros get back on the throne and he pays you back in cold hard cash.”

“Actually, I need lumber--”

Tedros cut the King of Ravenswood off. 

“You’re all providing something specific, aren’t you? Something you think will convince me to favour you if you get me back on the throne.”

“Yes.” said the Sultana of Thicket Tumble shamelessly. “Ravan can provide you with personal arms and information about Never customs relevant to people of your age and status, given he’s such a powerful man’s son.”

“Yes, I may be able to solve the fact you no longer have Excalibur.” said Ravan wryly. “I don’t imagine you ever bothered to find out what my quest was--”

“I did.” said Tedros. “Plundering Akgul for rubies.” 

“Oh.” Ravan looked a little surprised. “Yes, well, it’s an ironworker town. I may have stolen… a few other things. I can get you a sword.”

Tedros looked at him, surprised. 

“Thank you.”

Ravan ignored him, running through the rest of it;

“Bettina is poised to run a smear campaign against Rhian, taking information from the Kingdom Council themselves. Sultana Mahati has troops at your disposal, Arne will organise his soon, after trying to negotiate in your favour with other Never leaders. King Arne is also a master of weapons manipulation spells, which we thought you might find useful. In his youth, he was second only to your father’s knights.”

Tedros raised his eyebrows, looking down at the two leaders and Bettina. 

“I accept your suit,” he said. “I’d be grateful for the help.”

“Ah.” said Bettina. “Speaking of the Knights of the Round Table?”

Everyone looked at her. 

“I got a letter.”

* * *

“Tedros is gathering support from the Nevers.” said Queen Jacinda, anxiously at dinner that night. “Did you foresee this happening, King Rhian? Do you think we stand a chance against Mahati of Thicket Tumble? King Arne of Ravenswood? Both of them were seen with attending parties around the North, on the border between Camelot and Ravenswood, which is where our intelligence thinks he fled to--”

“Of course we do,” blustered the King of Foxwood. “Only three of them! There’s plenty more of us--”

“But more will come, with the influence of those powers behind him--”

Rhian held up a hand, and the leaders fell silent. 

“You need not worry yourselves about this. By nature, Nevers are notoriously disloyal, and their leaders are no different. Once Tedros proves himself a weak leader again-- which he  _ will,  _ I have no doubt-- they will come crawling back to me. Those closest to him have already turned their backs on. Tenuous alliances will pose no threat.”

Nervous glances flitted over to where Agatha was standing silently behind Sophie’s chair. No one had gathered the courage to ask her about Tedros-- or, really, to ask anything. 

“Agatha has accepted Sophie as the true Queen.” said Rhian. “In return for her loyalty, I have placed her as Sophie’s personal guard. Is this not true, Captain?”

“It is true, my lord.” said Agatha. Sophie hid her grimace behind her wine glass.

Confused mutters spread. No one had ever known Agatha to be so deferentia, and the idea that she would give up so easily… Sophie had no doubt they knew she was being influenced, somehow.

“In fact,” said Rhian. “I think it would be a fine idea for you to all follow suit, and pledge your allegiance to Princess Sophie.”

Sophie knew his game. He was trying to trap them. If they refused, they’d have to admit they still favoured Agatha-- Agatha who was apparently on his side, now. But if they accepted, they’d have to do it in front of the supplanted Queen, under the impression she understood what was happening. 

Sophie locked eyes with Rhian across the table. 

Rhian smiled at her. 

The first member of the Council bowed to her. 

* * *

“Akgul pledges its troops.” reported Bettina, three days later. “As do Netherwood and Ravenbow. Your father’s knights are regrouping under the cover of night. They’ll ride up here in a few weeks time.”

Tedros rubbed his face, exhausted. He’d barely slept since arriving here-- besides the fact all of the bedrooms were falling to pieces and the entire castle leaked, he’d spent most of his time arguing with the King of Ravenswood about how he was shit at magic and could barely enchant a dagger, let alone a whole sword.

“All of them are coming?”

“Sir Tristain and Sir Geraint died a few years ago, but the remaining nine-- Gawain, Lamorak, Percival, Bors, Kay, Gareth, Bedivere, Gaheris and Galahad-- are all committed to coming. Galahad is doubtful of exactly how fit some of them are to fight, but they’re very… enthusiastic.”

“Right.” murmured Tedros, trying not to think of Galahad’s father. The rest of the knights had been equivalent to somewhat gruff uncles during his childhood, but Galahad, eight years older than Tedros, had been the coolest pseudo-cousin Tedros could ever envision-- Lancelot’s son. 

His  _ real  _ son.

Bettina peered at him. 

“I thought you’d be more excited.”

Tedros tried to smile, but it didn’t really work. 

“Oh, yes, I-- yeah. Yeah. Sure. Great.”

After the arrival of the Never leaders, he seemed to have receded back to feeling like a scolded child, in most things. His brief explosion of rage had completely died, and he’d spent most nights wracked with guilt about leaving--

“Listen, Bettina, have you heard anything new about--”

“ _ No,  _ Tedros, I have told you everything I know about Agatha, which is  _ nothing _ beyond that she’s apparently unharmed and with Sophie.”

“But I--”

“Have a guilt complex about running off and leaving her even though you’d probably both have died horribly if you’d tried to get her out.” supplied Ravan, picking his teeth with a dagger. “We know.”

Tedros ignored him, digging his new sword half-heartedly into the moss between the stones. They were sitting on the steps of the dais in the throne room, as usual, below the conspicuously empty throne. 

“Not made  _ any  _ progress with that stupid thing?” asked Ravan, indicating the sword. Tedros scowled. 

“It’s a good sword.” he said. And it was; a fine blade, exquisitely forged and balanced, and apparently excellent for enchanting. 

The only trouble was, Tedros wasn’t very good at actually enchanting it. 

“I know you’ve always been shit at magic.” said Ravan conversationally, “But it’s  _ easy  _ stuff, imbuing steel with poison. Every first year at Evil can do it.”

“Yes, well, I didn’t  _ go  _ to Evil, did I?” snapped Tedros. “They don’t bother to teach Princes much magic beyond the basics. I know  _ how  _ I’m supposed to do it, I just can’t--”

He was cut off by the appearance of Sultana Mahati.

“Tedros, there’s a woman at the gates from Netherwood. Her name is Eris. She… er, she claims she’s the sister of someone called Callis?”

* * *

She was definitely related to Callis. 

Tedros had never seen Callis’s original appearance-- though, from what he’d heard, Eris was much the same-- but the folded arms and the displeased downturn of Eris’s mouth were distinctly familiar, even if she looked nothing like how her sister had when Tedros had known her. 

She cast a glance over at him as he approached, and looked rather unimpressed. Tedros, who had long given up trying to curry favour with any of Agatha’s family-- mother _or_ sister-- sighed to himself.

“Eris Wardwell.” she said briskly, shaking his hand for the shortest time possible and eyeing the soldiers setting up camp in the vast courtyard with not much interest. “Sent on behalf of the Netherwood Wardwell Clan.”

“Agatha’s mother was from  _ the  _ Wardwell Clan?” demanded Ravan. When Tedros and Bettina looked blank, he elaborated;

“They’re really rich, very influential, and notorious for turning out really competent sorcerers. And by competent I mean  _ deadly.” _

Tedros thought back to watching Callis charring some Gavaldon peasants, and decided there was some merit to that. 

“Cool.” said Bettina thoughtfully, shoving a new lollipop into her mouth. “Explains why Agatha was so rude to me the first time we met.”

Tedros frowned, but he had no time to question Bettina, because Eris was talking again, looking a little more receptive. 

“Yes, that one. Not that Agatha is related by blood to us, but Nevers rarely operate on family bonds anyway.  _ Blood of the covenant  _ and all that. Anyway, I’m here to offer my allegiance to you on the behalf of my family.” she eyed him doubtfully. “...I suppose.”

“Wow,” said Tedros blandly, “I’m honoured.”

“Don’t get smart with me, boy. The only thing that suggests your merit is that Callis was willing to die so that you would live.”

Tedros bit his cheek. 

“Yeah. I’m… um, I’m sorry. But listen, Agatha’s not really... with me, right now...” 

“Oh, we know.” snapped Eris. “She’s been sighted by our scouts with the Sophie girl. Looks unharmed, but we’d prefer her not to be in the clutches of Rhian for long.”

“That’s something we can both agree on.” said Tedros heavily, glancing out of the still-open gates at the forest beyond. There was a patrol approaching. Probably one of King Arne’s. “Shall we go inside?”

“Whatever you want, highness.”

Aware he was being mocked, but too tired and stressed to care, Tedros smiled vaguely and made for the steps back into the fortress. Ravan and Eris followed, but Bettina dawdled behind, still watching the approaching patrol. Idly swinging his sword, Tedros thought back through the enchantments King Arne had been impatiently trying to teach him. The poison-imbuing would take more effort-- and a much bigger supply of hemlock than Ravan had-- but the armour-shattering one was really just a beefed-up strike jinx. Possible. In theory.

“I expected something more impressive, I admit.” he heard Eris say to Ravan behind him. 

Tedros bit his tongue, trying to stop himself from saying anything--

“Tedros.” said Bettina, suddenly urgent. “That’s a Camelot patrol.”

Tedros turned so fast he slipped down a few steps. 

“ _ What _ ?”

She was right. They were all wearing the blue-and-gold livery of the King of Camelot.

Immediately hostile, Tedros jumped the last remaining steps and sprinted towards the guards on the gates, who were already frantically wrestling the great iron gates away from the wall--

Tedros knew they wouldn’t get them closed in time. 

“GIVE IT UP!” he shouted at the soldiers. “PREPARE TO FIGHT!”

To their credit, they listened to him, despite none of them serving Camelot. They ran for spears as Tedros pulled his sword and jumped onto the broken fountain in the centre of the courtyard, baring his teeth. Who had Rhian sent for him. Kei? The Mistral Sisters? Yes, he could see them on the left, though the Mistrals were hanging back, the old bats. Who was their leader, then? Rhian himself--?

Tedros’s eyes snagged on the lead rider--

Not Rhian, or even any of the traitorous knights who had betrayed Tedros 

Agatha.

_ Agatha. _

“Tedros,  _ no _ \--” began Eris.

_ “AGATHA!” _

Tedros jumped from the fountain and sprinted for the gates as the thundering of hooves filled the courtyard. He tripped over the cobblestones, twisted his ankle, staggered, regained himself, kept running--

“Agatha, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to leave you, I didn’t-- I didn’t think, I’m  _ so _ sorry, I love you, I--”

He stumbled to a stop next to her horse, heaving for breath, and looked up.

Agatha looked down at him as her horse slowed, coming in to stop.

She smiled--

And kicked him in the chest with the entire force of the running horse behind her. 

Tedros hit the ground so hard it knocked his sight out for a few seconds. Gasping, he rolled over, clutching his burning chest as shouts and the sound of blades colliding erupted around him…

His sight had only been back for a few seconds before the first stun spell skimmed his shoulder. 

Aghast, he scrambled backwards as Agatha brought her horse around, fingerglow alight, and aimed it at his head. He dove out of the way, jarring his chest, and scrabbled behind the fountain, numb with horror. What was happening? He’d thought she’d be angry at him, but this wasn’t right. This was a full scale attack… that she was  _ leading. _

Breathless, he staggered out from behind the fountain, lifting his sword with shaking hands. At least a dozen riders in Camelot livery were spread out around the courtyard, all attacking the soldiers--

Apart from one. 

Nicola, dismounted and unarmed, ducking between tents, as if she was trying to avoid notice.

Bewildered beyond reason, Tedros looked desperately around--

And found Agatha dismounted, making for him. 

“Agatha, what are you--” Tedros ducked to avoid another stun spell, sucking in a breath as it made his ribs scream. “What are you  _ doing?” _

She didn’t reply, aiming another spell at his head. Desperate, Tedros looked into her face--

And recoiled. 

He’d never  _ once  _ seen her look like this. Never. She’d never looked this severe, this contemptful, this…

Cold. 

Tedros went still.

It reminded him of how the Snake had looked at him. 

Chilled to the bone, he backed away, loath to retaliate in any way, but knowing he had to, but he would never,  _ never  _ be able to--

Agatha pulled a short blade from her belt, Tedros tried to lift his sword-- 

A red stun spell hit Agatha in the side of the head and knocked her, sprawling, onto the cobblestones. Unable to help himself, Tedros lunged towards her--

“No! No!” Ravan came running up from behind him and grabbed him around the chest, hauling him away. Tedros snarled, part frustration and part pain, trying to bat him away-- 

Ravan shook him.

_ “Look,  _ you stupid git! Look! _ ” _

Tedros looked--

Swearing, Agatha lurched back to her knees, hand to her bleeding ear...

And on the cobblestones where she’d lain, a bloody scim thrashed and flailed.

Nauseous, Tedros stood, transfixed with horror--

The Mistral Sisters came hobbling over from the gates, hands raised and wrinkled faces bright with fury. They grabbed Agatha and hauled her to her feet, and one of them put their hand over her head--

Tedros tore out of Ravan’s grip and bulled towards them. 

_ “WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO HER--” _

“It’s Tedros they want, get him out of here!” 

Hands, more than just Ravan, seized him from behind and snatched him backwards, dragging him towards the castle.

“LET GO OF ME--” Tedros thrashed furiously, jarring his ribs even more, struggling to reach his sword--

Through the commotion, Tedros saw Eris run towards Agatha, knocking the Mistral Sisters out of the way. She caught her wrists and yanked her around--

“Agatha, I’m your mother’s sister. Callis’s sister. Listen to me, I don’t know what they’ve done, but--”

She stopped, face darkening, and a horrible foreboding crawled up Tedros’s spine at the same time.    
Agatha hadn’t reacted at all to the mention of Callis. 

“What have they done to her?” croaked Tedros.

Before anyone could respond, there was a shout, and Kei came running towards him, sword out, face tense. 

The traitor knight. Rhian’s lapdog.

He’d let this happen.

With a roar, Tedros cleaved himself from his allies’ grip. Fingerglow so bright it was almost blinding, he snatched up his sword and brought it down on Kei’s breastplate,  _ hard _ .

With a sound like breaking glass, the metal of Kei’s armour exploded.

Possible indeed.

Everyone cringed away from the flying shard of metal, but Tedros forged forwards as Kei crumpled--

“Get him inside, Eris!” shouted King Arne. Tedros turned--

A stun spell hit him in the head, and his last conscious thought as his cheek cracked into the stone was of the Mistral Sisters hauling Agatha away.

* * *

Agatha had a headache. 

“We know where he is now,” said Alpa. “The King will be pleased.”

“I didn’t capture him.” said Agatha. Her ear was bleeding.

“We didn’t expect him to have so many soldiers with him. We will prepare, next time. You’ve done well, my sweet.”

Agatha frowned. She was meant to capture him, dead or alive. Preferably dead. She remembered that. She was sure the King would be displeased.

She had a headache. Her ear was bleeding. 

“He captured the first year girl, and Kei.” muttered Omeida irritably behind them. 

“They can escape easily from Tintagel.” sneered Bethna. “Crumbling wreck of a place. No functioning dungeons. Kei will come crawling back to Rhian, and he will bring her with him.”

Agatha’s ear was bleeding. She reached up to touch it, frowning. She didn’t think her blood was supposed to have black in it. What had happened? ...She had been stunned by the boy with the long hair, because she had tried to attack Tedros, that was it. She had expected Tedros to put up more of a fight. He had been pathetic. He had not wanted to attack her, because he was her…

Her headache increased.

Her schoolmate. Yes. That was it. Her schoolmate.

Her schoolmate. 

Agatha had a headache. Her ear was bleeding, red and black. 

_ The black is from the scims. _

Scims? 

She didn’t know what scims were.

Her headache increased. Blood was dripping on the gold epaulette on her uniform. 

_ The scims! Japeth’s scims! _

No, she didn't understand. 

The King would be pleased, she thought to herself. That was what counted. Sophie would be pleased, too. She had found Tedros. He had come running up to her. He had said…

What had he said?

Something.

Why had he come running up to her? He was only a schoolmate, and an arrogant one at that. They hadn’t liked one another much. She had a headache. Her ear was bleeding.   
(Had they?)

No. They hadn’t.

_ He’s not only a schoolmate! _

He was a schoolmate. He didn’t matter.

_ He matters! _

What mattered was that she had found Tedros. Very easily, in fact. The King would be pleased. She had tracked Tedros easily because she knew him well.    
But how? He was only a schoolmate.

Perhaps he was predictable. 

No, she knew him well. Very well. That didn’t make sense. 

Frowning, Agatha put her hand to her pounding head. 

Very well? 

The best.

Yes, the best. 

He was her schoolmate. 

Her schoolmate. 

_ Your prince! _

Her schoolmate. 

_ Your King! _

Her schoolmate.

_ YOUR FIANCÉ! _

Her fiancé.

Yes, that was right. He had said he loved her, because he was her fiancé. 

Yes.

Agatha had a headache, and her ear was bleeding. 

Her blood was black because of Japeth’s scims. 

And she had a headache because of Japeth’s scims.    
And Tedros was her schoolmate. 

Her prince. 

Her King.

And her fiancé.

And she loved him. 

“I hid his ring.” she said. “I hid it.”

And then Agatha fainted, and came off her horse into the brook below. 

* * *

“You stunned me.” snarled Tedros, holding ice to his split cheek. 

“I’m not sorry.” said Eris. “You’d have gotten yourself killed.”

“I wish I had.” 

“You’d be no use to her, then.”

They were sitting in one of the parlours on the east side of the castle, waiting for Ravan to bring up the two soldiers they’d captured. The rest of the patrol had fled, he’d been told, Agatha included. Rhian would know where they were camped, now, but a patrol any bigger than the one they’d sent would not be able to cross the peninsula.

Tedros knew the next logical step, by Rhian’s logic, would be to lure him out. And now, it would be incredibly easy. 

He put his head in his hands, mostly to cover his trembling mouth. He’d yet to pitch the question to Eris, and even if he did, he knew she wouldn’t know. 

_ What had they done to Agatha--? _

The door bashed open and Tedros jerked upright as two of King Arne’s soldiers dragged in one of Rhian’s soldiers, Ravan, Bettina and the three Never leaders following--

_ “Nicola _ !” exclaimed Tedros, bolting to his feet. “You--”

“Before you accuse me of being a traitor, Sophie sent me.” Nicola struggled to her knees and indicated the paper Bettina was holding.

“This is a list of wedding details.” Bettina said. 

“Read it properly.” snapped Nicola. Tedros snatched it from them and scanned it--

_ “Let Tedros catch you.”  _ he read out. “Sophie put you in this patrol?”

“She made a deal with Rhian.” said Nicola, taking the paper back. “Said she wanted to add some  _ Gavaldon panache _ to the wedding and said I should be released from the dungeons to help her, but first Rhian made me prove my loyalty by sending me on this mission--”

“Gavaldon has  _ panache _ ?” asked Eris. 

“It absolutely doesn’t.” said Nicola firmly. 

“And Rhian just  _ agreed?”  _ demanded Tedros.

Nicola’s eyes narrowed. 

“Yes. If you want my opinion--” she caught sight of Tedros’s impatient expression. “Oh, alright. I’ll give you the short version. After you fled, there was chaos. Rhian’s men came and rounded us all up, took us to the dungeons, and dragged Sophie off to keep her out of the way… but they couldn’t catch Agatha. She bit a bunch of them, kicked someone else with those horrible boots of hers, and climbed all the way up one the pillars in the Entrance Hall, until they… got her down.”

She paused… then looked up.

“Tedros, the Snake is alive.”

Tedros stared at her, the same dread he’d felt earlier writhing in his gut. 

“...Impossible. Rhian snapped his neck, I saw his body, I--”

Nicola shook her head wearily. 

“He and Rhian faked it. We used a Mirrorspell and watched Rhian’s speech. He’s Rhian’s brother. His twin, in fact. His name is Japeth. The people don’t know his real identity, Rhian introduced him as his liege.”

“ _ Another _ one.” muttered Tedros. “Another brother! Oh, if my mother knew about this the entire time, I’ll--”

“Guinevere has insisted several times she had no idea they existed, and that they’re not her sons. They’re older than you-- whoever their mother is, Arthur must have been with her just before he married Guinevere.”

“A paranoiac, a drunk, an egoist _and_ a cheat, now?” snapped Tedros. “And my father had the audacity to get hysterical about _me--”_ he stopped at Nicola’s expression. “What?” 

“Japeth-- the Snake-- he came to get Agatha himself.”

Tedros froze, the image of the bloody scim on the cobblestones lurching to the front of his mind. The other’s faces became similarly tense. 

“He basically knocked her off the pillar. It’s a wonder she didn’t break her neck, really. But then he…” Nicola hesitated, searching for the right word. “He can do this… thing, with the scims. He put them in her head.”

“What?” said Tedros faintly. 

“He put three into her head, through her ear. I don’t quite know the extent of what it does, but from what we can tell… he basically controls her. It’s a way of blackmailing Sophie. Agatha can’t hear or comprehend anything he doesn’t want her to, and all of her actions are under his or the Mistral Sister’s control. Sophie can’t do anything with Agatha so directly under their control. I think Japeth even controls her thoughts and memories-- apparently she only knows me as a fellow Reader, Sophie just as her friend and sister, and we saw that she doesn’t remember her mother.”

Eris bowed her head, looking grim. 

“And me?” asked Tedros desperately, feeling clammy. “He-- what did he--”

Nicola hesitated. 

“She knows you were schoolmates and you used to date Sophie, I think, but anything else…” she shrugged helplessly. “He’s wiped almost everything she knows about you, leaving just enough to mean she can track you. I don’t think she knows you even liked her, let alone that you were supposed to get married.”

Tedros’s hands were shaking. He clasped them tightly and found them cold.

“Her mission was to capture you and bring you back to Rhian, dead or alive.” continued Nicola. “Preferably dead. They intended to remove the scims after that, and let her see what she’d done. After that… they assumed they’d no longer have any resistance from her.”

There was a long, long pause. Tedros dug his nails into his palm so hard he broke skin. Nicola started chattering nervously, voice starting to shake;

“Sophie and I don’t think we can get the scims out without hurting her, and even if we did, Japeth would just replace them. I know Ravan knocked one out, but that took a powerful stun spell as it was, and there’s still two more. I don’t think anything can be done without killing Japeth.”

Tedros sat there, the ice melting down the side of his face and his arm. He felt numb, but he didn’t think it was anything to do with the ice. His skin was prickling, and his ears were ringing, and--

Bettina looked over at him, and her face changed.

“Oh my god, he’s gone stark white-- Eris, catch him--”

* * *

“--I think I’d faint, too.” Nicola was saying when he came around on the damp sofa. It sounded as if they were in the corridor. 

“Poor kid.” muttered Eris. “Having a bit of a shitty life, isn’t he? Feel sorry for him, really.”

“He wouldn’t like to hear you say that.” said Sultana Mahati.

“Oh, it’s true.”

There was a pause. Feeling sick, Tedros lurched into a sitting position--

“He’ll want to kill Japeth.” warned Ravan. “Himself. You realise this?”

Ravan was right. He would. He did. 

Tedros hauled himself to his feet, jaw set, as the group outside murmured doubtfully. 

“I’d like to get a few hits in.” muttered Eris. “But sure, he can have his head. Perhaps we can stuff it.”

Ravan laughed. No one else did.

“He couldn’t kill him last time.” said King Arne grimly--

Tedros staggered over to the door and rammed it open.

“It’s not last time.” he snapped, barging past them.”I’ll kill him. You hear me? I’LL KILL HIM!”

The others remained silent. Tedros scanned their expressions-- ranging from doubtful, to nervous, to resigned. 

“You can try.” said Arne, resigned. “But you can’t refuse help, like last time. You need to take this seriously. No weird royal pride bullshit, trying to live up to your father’s legacy-”

Tedros took a breath to shout at him, to tell him this went beyond any kind of personal pride, went beyond him completely, that it wasn’t him, it was  _ Agatha _ \--

He caught sight of the statue behind them and the words died in his throat.

He remembered his dream, the hedges throwing him from the tower.

“To hell with my father’s legacy.” he said. “Never helped me in the slightest.”

He leapt onto the pedestal at the base of the statue and wrested the iron crown from the carving, shattering the brow and the top of the statue’s head. As he vaulted back down, his shoulder caught the statue, and it toppled from the balcony, falling in almost slow motion... 

Until it hit the stone three floors down and dashed into smithereens, pieces of Arthur scattering in every direction.

Tedros didn’t spare it a second glance. 

He stalked down the stairs, boots crunching on marble splinters, clutching the statue’s crown in his white knuckles. The soldiers in his path dove out of his way as he forged down the hall, cloak snapping in his wake, but Nicola and Ravan were the first to run after him. They were shouting him. 

He ignored them. 

He went left, and then right, and then--

He heaved open the doors to the throne room, shoving them so hard that they crashed against the walls.

Arthur had hated this jagged slate throne that stood on the dais. He thought it unfit for Evers-- too sharp, too uneven, too warlike. Not sleek or polished or proper like  _ his _ perfect vision of Good.

Well, he wasn’t sitting on it. His son was. 

And despite his best efforts, Tedros was  _ not  _ Arthur’s perfect vision of Good. 

Shaking, Tedros snatched up his cloak and stepped onto the dais. 

Rhian had started a fight he could never hope to win. Tedros knew exactly what he’d  _ hoped _ to accomplish by sending Agatha to find him, in the clutches of this  _ Japeth  _ and his old crone minions. He’d wanted to destroy him, to disturb him and frighten him so badly that Tedros would yield and come crawling back, desperate to retrieve Agatha at any cost. 

Six months ago, six weeks ago, six  _ days  _ ago, it might have worked.

It wasn’t six years, or six weeks, or six days ago.

The image of Agatha’s severe, blank expression crossed his memory again, and again, and again--

_ By my father’s blood, you’ll be sorry. _

He hadn’t said Arthur’s name, and he hadn’t been thinking of him. 

He’d meant Lancelot, left to bleed out by the Snake. By Rhian’s brother. 

Tedros took his seat on the dais just as Nicola and Ravan burst through the doors. 

“Tedros--” began Ravan.

“Nicola,” Tedros cut across him smoothly. “I’m sending you back.”

“What?”

“Go back to Camelot. Take Rhian’s lapdog, too. Pretend the two of you escaped me.”

“But--”

“You’re to take a message to my...  _ brothers.” _

Tedros reached up and put the iron crown on his head. 

It fitted him far better than his father’s ever had. 

* * *

“I hear you have a  _ revelation  _ for me?” snapped Tedros as Arne and Ravan threw Kei, sprawling, at his feet. The traitorous guard had been desperate to talk to him, insisting he had important information, but whatever it was, Tedros was suspicious of a ruse, if not simply a direct lie.

Kei looked up, and Tedros was surprised by the lack of aggression on his face.

“I do. I… I got myself captured on purpose. So I could tell you.”

“Really.” said Tedros, unimpressed. 

“I thought you’d hear me out sooner. It’s important.”

“Oh, _well_. My apologies. Being locked up in the dungeons for hours against your will when you have something really important to do is terrible, isn’t it?” 

Kei’s face tensed, clearly remembering how he’d stopped Tedros riding to Four Point.

“Out with it.” snapped Tedros.

“Rhian and Japeth… they’re lying.”

“We’ve gathered that they’re quite good at that, yes.” sniffed Tedros, swinging his leg over the arm of his throne--

“I mean about their parentage. They’re not Arthur’s sons.”

Everyone in the hall-- the leaders, Bettina, Ravan, even Nicola, hands bound loosely under the pretence of being in custody-- went silent. 

“...what?”

“They’re the School Master’s.” said Kei. “The School Master and Evelyn Sader.”

“ _ Rafal?”  _ demanded Tedros. He laughed. “No. Don’t be ridiculous. You’re lying--”

But Kei’s face was anguished. 

“I wish I was. Japeth told me, to taunt me. The Mistral Sisters are their aunts, Rafal’s sisters. Rhian… Rhian doesn’t know. I couldn’t bear to tell him. He truly thinks he’s Arthur’s son. He’s convinced. Obsessed. At school, I was the only one who believed him…”

He trailed off. 

“This is absurd.” sneered Tedros, despite a distinct doubt nagging him. “Why would _you_ come and tell us something like that? Which would bring Rhian down and destroy his claim?”

“It will come out, at some point.” said Kei. “I’d rather it seemed like it came from you. That way, he’ll be angry about it, rather than crushed. If he’s just confronted with it, from a reliable source… I don’t know what it would do to him. His entire worldview and sense of self would be destroyed.”

“Imagine that.” murmured Tedros. 

There was a pause. Tedros turned to the assembled group around him.

“Anyone heard anything about this before?”

Most people shook their heads, but Ravan frowned. 

“I remember that Rafal said something about Evelyn Sader, once. At New Evil. And he mentioned twins a lot. I thought it was because  _ he  _ was a twin, but…”

“I’ll find out.” said Bettina briskly. “I’ll go to Foxwood, poke around, ask some people some questions.”

“It’s  _ true _ !” insisted Kei. 

“We’ll see.” said Tedros. “I would very much like it to be true. But as you’ve shown in the past, you’re not exactly trustworthy.”

* * *

“--He forced me to tell him what happened to Agatha!” grovelled Nicola. “I thought he’d kill me, but he didn’t, I managed to convince him that since we were schoolmates, he should spare me--”

“There, now.” said Rhian, with an unenthusiastic attempt at sympathy. Sophie bit back a snort. “It doesn’t matter. He would have found out eventually, and with any luck, the news will have him sobbing in some dank corner of that crumbling old fortress. What did he say?”

“Nothing I heard.” sniffled Nicola. “He left immediately.” 

Sophie had to admit, she was impressed by her acting skills.

“They forced me to bring this back.” said Kei, from where he was sat by Rhian’s feet. He produced an envelope and held it out, and Rhian snatched it from him, with a glance of irritation. 

“What are you now, a carrier pigeon?  _ Useless. _ ”

Kei remained silent, fiddling with his bootlaces. If he wasn’t such a traitor, Sophie might have felt sorry for him. He looked crushed.

Scowling, Rhian tore open the paper--

Japeth let out a snarl of irritation.

The crushed scim had made a mess of the page-- blood and black gore everywhere-- but it didn’t matter. The message was clearly visible. 

_ FOR EVERYTHING ELSE, YOU WILL BE SORRY. _

_ BUT FOR AGATHA, YOU WILL DIE. _

Sophie stared, reminded heavily of a similar note, back in first year.

Japeth cackled, mocking.

Rhian didn’t. 

He touched the crushed scim, rubbing the gore between his fingers. 

“This came from the girl.” he said. “Didn’t it?”

Kei bowed his head in acknowledgement. 

Japeth stopped laughing. 

“ _ What?” _

“One of his allies, the Thicket Tumble boy, got one out.” muttered Kei. “He stunned her hard enough to knock it out.”

Japeth’s face became murderous. 

“The Mistrals reported she fainted on the ride back, from the conflict between the scims and her own consciousness.” said Rhian. 

“That’s why.” snapped Japeth, flinging the letter down. “Two isn’t enough.”

Sophie fought to keep her expression neutral. The idea of even  _ one _ of those disgusting things in Agatha’s head was enough, but  _ more? _

“It’s becoming more and more difficult to wipe her memory.” said Japeth, making for the door. Silently, Sophie made for one of the side exits. “You better get our...  _ brother  _ killed quickly.”

Rhian smirked at the disparaging tone on  _ brother.  _ So did Japeth. 

Kei didn’t.

* * *

“It’s improper for the future Queen to let a guard have her bed.”

Sophie looked coolly up at Japeth from where she was sitting on the floor outside her bedroom door. Japeth was staring at the door, not even bothering to look at her.

“Well,” she said sweetly, combing her hair with her fingers. “Since I haven’t been assigned a new guard, I thought it prudent to stay nearby my current one.” 

“She’s in no state to be guarding anyone.” said Japeth.

“No,” agreed Sophie thinly. “I wonder whose fault that is?”

Japeth didn’t take the bait. 

“Stand up.” he said. 

“Why?” said Sophie innocently, propping her heel against the doorjamb. 

“Unless you want a new guard assigned to you, I need to get yours back in fighting shape.”

“And how are you going to do that?”

Japeth looked slowly down at her. 

“It seems that three wasn’t enough. Four will suffice.”

“ _ Four--”  _ Sophie leapt to her feet, abandoning any pretence of apathy, and blocked the door with her body. “No. No, absolutely not.”

“Stand aside.”

“I don’t think you’re in a position to give me orders, Sir Japeth.”

“You’re not Queen yet.”

“I didn’t mean that, bastard.”

Japeth’s gaze finally snapped over to her, knowing which sense of the word she meant. Sophie stared back, jaw set. When Nicola had told her Kei’s confession, she’d laughed so loudly she’d scared Reaper under the cabinet. Of course they were  _ Rafal’s  _ sons. Of course they were. The old creep was intent on tormenting her from beyond the grave, it seemed. 

But what made it truly delicious was that  _ Rhian didn’t know.  _

Gossip, rumours, reputation. Sophie’s favourite currency. She’d built up her own, made herself formidable. But now, she had the power to tear down someone else's. It was glorious, really. She’d smiled at Rhian so widely during dinner that he’d looked frankly disturbed. 

But Japeth was harder to shake. 

“As a Reader, you should know that the mongrel is always preferable to the monster.” he said flatly. 

“In this particular story, I find the lines blurred between them.” snapped Sophie. Japeth smiled with no humour. 

“It’s time for the line of Arthur to end. You said it yourself. Move aside.”

“It didn’t end well for your father.” warned Sophie smoothly, curling her hands around the doorjamb. “You know that, don’t you?”

“I’m doing what my father couldn’t.” snapped Japeth, impatient. The scims rippled to life on his suit, and the sight of them sparked a new wave of vitriol in Sophie. “I told you to  _ move-- _ ”

“I killed Rafal.” crooned Sophie. “I killed your father when he thought he had me. And he killed your mother, and his brother. Your family is stalked by death. You think you’ll be spared? You’ll be betrayed, just like the rest of them--”

Japeth grabbed her head and bashed it against the door. 

“I could kill her,” he hissed, face centimetres from hers. “I could kill her right now, and make it look like an accident. Pretend she fought too hard and gave herself an aneurysm. Tried to get them out and bled to death. Hit her brain. Anything. I could do it easily. Too easily. So I would advise you,  _ highness,  _ that it might be best if you hold your tongue, or my hand might just  _ slip--” _

With a scream, Sophie tore from his grip and punched him as hard as she could, carving a clear chunk from his cheek with the diamond on Rhian’s ring, slashing a jagged cut all the way to the top of his lip. He staggered backwards-- then regained himself, seething and spitting blood.

With a roar, Japeth lunged for her, scims forgotten-- 

A sword swung between them and stopped them both dead. 

“What,” said Rhian icily, holding Excalibur between their chests. “Is this?”

Wiping blood from his lip, Japeth opened his mouth--

Sophie burst into hysterical tears and flung herself into a startled Rhian’s arms. 

“Oh, _Rhian,_ thank god you’re here! I refused to let him see Aggie, because I was worried he might hurt her, naturally I was, and when I wouldn’t let him, he threatened to _kill_ her if I didn’t, and then I didn’t know what to do, and-- _oh--_ ”

She burst into a fresh bout of sobbing, concealing her grin in Rhian’s chest. She’d been working on him for weeks, now. No matter how violently she’d hated him, she’d smiled, told him how clever he was, agreed with all his ideas for the wedding, fawned over him and told him he was handsome… and she knew it was getting to him. She’d even apologised for her outburst, passing it off as concern for Agatha, and he’d actually accepted the apology! If she didn’t know better (and she did-- he was a lunatic) she’d think he even felt _guilty_.

Perhaps there had been some truth in his emphatic declarations of love, after all. 

Sophie could work with that. 

Now, she waited expectantly, turning to look back at Japeth triumphantly--

“Is this true?” Rhian asked his brother. 

“She threatened me.” said Japeth coldly. 

“It looks like she did more than  _ threatened  _ you.” snorted Rhian, eyeing Japeth’s bleeding face. 

“My ring split his cheek when I punched him.” sniffled Sophie, busily dabbing at the running mascara on her cheeks. Oh, she was a fabulous actress, wasn’t she?

“She  _ punched  _ you--”

Japeth snarled and the mirth faded from Rhian’s voice. There was a pause. Rhian looked down at Sophie. Sophie polished the blood from her ring with her sleeve, still sniffling occasionally.

“One more.” he said, finally. “Take it up to three, not four. To ensure conformity.”

Sophie bit back a grimace. It was better than  _ four  _ of those disgusting eels in Agatha’s head, but she had been hoping for a better outcome. 

“Three isn’t enough--” began Japeth.

“ _ I said one more!”  _ barked Rhian. “Keep your side of the bargain, Japeth, or I won’t keep mine!”

Japeth’s jaw jumped as he looked furiously between the two of them-- Rhian glaring, Sophie ignoring him, staring over Rhian’s shoulder--

Two yellow eyes glared back at her, and she startled. Reaper, lying under the cabinet outside her room. He must have been there since Sophie had scared him, reluctant to leave when Agatha was close at hand.

“Fine.” said Japeth. “ _ Fine.” _

“Good.” said Rhian. “Get on with it. We have wedding preparations to make, and Agatha needs to be present, because she’ll be in Sophie’s attending party.”

He turned to leave, grabbing Sophie’s arm--

“Oh, Rhian, darling?” said Sophie suddenly, an idea sparking. “Go with him, won’t you? I don’t think I trust him after that little… display.” She shot Japeth a withering glance. “Don’t worry, I’ll go ahead. I’ll take Kei, he’ll walk with me.”

Rhian hesitated.   
Sophie smiled at him. 

“I-- yes. Alright. I’ll be quick.”

He took her hand, bowed to her, and strode after Japeth. Sophie tried her best to look pleased, secretly desperate for him to leave--

The second the door was shut, she hustled over to the cabinet, stuck her hands underneath, and snatched Reaper out.

“Hello, kitty. You’re going to do me a little favour.”

Callis’s cat hissed at her.

“Ooh, don’t be like that, it’s for Aggie really. Here--”

She set him down on a windowsill and snatched a spare bit of parchment from her pocket. Reaper seemed mollified by the mention of Agatha, and sat staring at her, tail swishing expectantly, as Sophie scribbled a note;

_ I think it would be a huge misstep to invite my ex boyfriend to my wedding. Imagine if he caused a scene and accused my groom of some terrible crime? Like letting his brother threaten to kill my sister and make it look like an accident? Or having a false claim to something? Or… well, anything, really.  _

_ That would be truly terrible, wouldn’t it? _

_ Xo darling.  _

Smirking to herself, she rolled the note up and let Reaper clamp it in his mouth. Then she scooped the cat up and swished off down the corridor--

She turned the corner and found Kei standing there, almost as stiff and stoic as usual.  _ Almost, _ because Sophie was sure as he turned to look at her, there was a flash of resentment in his eyes. 

Sophie frowned back at him. Was he truly so dense? Was it not obvious she  _ loathed _ Rhian? That she was no legitimate competition?

She truly was a fabulous actress. 

Sophie sighed, and held Reaper out to the bewildered guard.

“Kei, be a dear and let the cat out, won’t you?”

* * *

“--hemlock is more of an unusual choice than belladonna, but that’s good, because it means more people won’t have the antidote on them. So they’re more likely to die, or be seriously maimed.” said Eris briskly, plunging the blade into the trough and disappearing behind a cloud of foul-smelling steam.

The Knights of the Round Table, sitting in a cluster at a table in the smithy, looked doubtfully at one another. They’d arrived about half an hour ago and had yet to actually say much to Tedros, opting for muttering amongst themselves and staring at him when they thought he wasn’t looking. Tedros wondered if they’d expected him to grow horns or something.

“He say this is his girl’s aunt?” Lamorak hissed to Galahad--

Eris overheard them.

“She’s never actually  _ met _ me, but she was raised by Callis for fifteen years _ ,  _ and how different was my sister, really?” said Eris, throwing the blade onto the anvil and examining it. 

Tedros thought back to watching Callis bash a few toads to death in a mortar. 

“...Not very.”

“Hmm. Good to know she didn’t get soft as a mother.”

“She tried to set some Gavaldon peasants on fire before she died.”

The Knight’s heads were going back and forth between them like it was a tennis match. It hadn’t occurred to Tedros until now that they had no particular acquaintance with Agatha. 

That would be an interesting meeting, once he’d got her back. 

“An impressive final act.” said Eris. “She was very good at fire magic, but her real talent was potions. I can’t hold a candle to her, but she taught me, so...”

She spat on the blade and it hissed. 

“Ah, good, it worked. Should be able to poison anyone it cuts, now.”

She wiped it down with a leather cloth, and handed it to Tedros, who carefully took it and returned it to the higher scabbard, the enchanted one designed to hold it. He’d taken to wearing two swords, now-- the shorter blade imbued with poison, and the longer, heavier blade which could be enchanted to break armour, the one Ravan had supplied him with. This was about the only thing he was enjoying, at the moment. His days were mostly taken up with being stuck in strategy meetings where Never leaders who had never won a battle against Evers in their lives talked about siege weapons and Tedros and Ravan argued with them about why that wasn’t going to work. Tedros had the unique advantage of being able to see things from an Ever perspective-- and knowing Camelot inside out-- but as usual, no one took him seriously, and so far he’d been subject to a barrage of half-baked plans involving all sorts of nonsense. He’d been excited for the Knight’s arrival, hoping another set of Camelot natives would be able to help him put forward his points, but the feeling had quickly soured the second they’d avoided eye contact with him and pitched their questions to King Arne instead. Tedros had gotten the impression they fancied he was still the same as when they last saw him-- a nine years old, except  _ now _ he was a homicidal maniac intent on murdering his half brother. 

Scowling, Tedros made to leave the smithy. It was a small wonder they’d been his father’s closest friends. Nutters, the lot of them. The only reasonable one had been Lancelot, and he--

“Boy, we need to talk.”

Tedros turned on his heel impatiently to face Bors.

“What’s there to talk about?” he demanded. 

“Well, I suppose you’ll need our help with strategy, won’t you?” said the old knight briskly. “You didn’t even finish your education. You study sieges in third year. Lucky for you, this supposed brother of yours didn’t go at all, but he does have the support of the Kingdom Council. Well, leave this to us, we’ll get the King six feet under--”

“Um,” Galahad tried to interject, “Bors, I think we were meant to just  _ help,  _ not take over--”

“Yeah, I have to--”

Percival cut Tedros off. 

“Didn’t you get warned about trying to prove yourself in some stupid way? You can come  _ with  _ us, but it’s best to let us head this.” he turned away from Tedros, to the rest of the Knights. “Perhaps we should invade at Christmas--”

“That’s  _ months  _ away!” snapped Tedros. 

“These things take time, boy.”

“I can’t leave Agatha that long!”

“That your girl?” asked Kay vaguely, examining the map on the smithy wall. “Well, she’s a Princess, isn’t she? They’ll treat her alright, they’ll want to appear honourable. Come on, let’s go and see what swordplay they taught you at that school. Espada is decent, I suppose, but he’s probably a bit geriactric, now--”

They laughed and headed off. Tedros stared after them, simmering with suppressed rage. He should have known. His father’s knights hadn’t come to help him. They weren’t here for _him--_ they’d barely glanced at him. They were a bunch of doddering old men here to relive their glory days in the only way they could think of.

Tedros clenched his fists, swallowed his anger, and went to get his sword from Ravan. 

* * *

“God,” said Gaheris later. “The cats around here aren’t much to look at.”

Tedros’s head snapped around, and he lowered his sword.

A bald, wrinkled old cat stood in the open window, tail swishing expectantly. 

“That’s Reaper.” he said. 

Next to the window, Ravan sat up.

“Agatha’s cat?”

Gareth snorted.

“Poor taste.”

“It was her dead mother’s.” snapped Tedros. Gareth clamped his mouth shut as Ravan prised a scroll from Reaper’s wrinkled jaws--

“It’s from Sophie.” he said. “Her handwriting.”

Tedros’s face fell.

“Sophie? But--”

“Are you gonna actually take a swing at that dummy, lad, or are you just going to stand there and look gormless?”

Irritated, Tedros returned his attention to Bedievere, leaning impatiently on his sword next to one of the armoured training dummies. 

“This is more important--”

“Read it out, lad.” said Lamorak. “So Tedros doesn’t get even worse at swordplay than he already is. Clearly Lancelot didn’t teach you much. Galahad, duel him.”

Tedros flushed, furious. Galahad stepped up with an apologetic grimace, and took his stance in front of Tedros. Tedros made a half-hearted swing at his head, which was immediately blocked. Lancelot had never been able to inspire the same skill in Tedros as he had in his own son. 

Ravan eyed the old Good knights, unimpressed, but did it anyway;

_ “I think it would be a huge misstep to invite my ex boyfriend to my wedding.”  _

“I forgot he dated the witch girl.” mused Lamorak. “That was the big embarrassment at the time.”

Tedros blocked Galahad’s first attack and shoved it away with more than the usual venom. “ _ Imagine if he caused a scene and accused my groom of some terrible crime?”  _ continued Ravan.

Tedros narrowed his eyes, trying to work out what Sophie wanted him to do. There was no way anyone would believe him about the Rafal thing. Not yet. He barely believed it himself, and wouldn’t until Bettina had found some solid proof. 

He redirected Galahad’s next swing, aiming to avoid the more insecure stance Lancelot had always scolded him for stepping into. 

_ “Like… well, anything, really. Having a false claim to something?” _

Tedros advanced a few steps forward, then was immediately forced back by Galahad. So she wanted Tedros to make the accusation. Still, it was hard to see how that would make Tedros any more desirable as King-- 

_ “--or letting his brother threaten to kill my sister and make it look like an accident?” _

Galahad knocked Tedros’s sword out of his hand and onto the floor. Tedros made no move to retrieve it.

_ “That would be truly terrible, wouldn’t it? Xo darling.”  _

“That’s all it says?” asked Tedros tightly. 

“I presume she can’t say too much.” said Ravan grimly, lifting Reaper from his lap and standing up. The cat came to circle Tedros’s ankles instead. Tedros picked him up absently. 

“Japeth tried to--”

“Threatened to.” corrected Ravan. “I think something must be stopping him, else that message would be a lot more frantic.”

Tedros was only half listening. He’d been right; they couldn’t leave Agatha for any longer. 

“We’re going to the wedding.” he said. 

The Knights groaned. 

“For god’s sake, boy--”

“If you want me as King you’re going to have to get used to listening to what I have to say before patronising me.” snapped Tedros, snatching his sword from the floor and sheathing it hurriedly. “We’re going to the wedding and I know how we’re going to do it.”

* * *

Tedros got up early to train every morning after that. 

Not that he’d been sleeping much in general, but he’d have done it anyway-- training with the knights was insufferable and he’d been avoiding it as much as he could. They’d been quieter since he’d snapped at them, but continued to belittle his swordplay every ten seconds.

“What are you doing up?”

“Could ask you the same thing.” said Galahad, sitting at the base of a statue of Arthur, Guinevere and Lancelot.

“Training.” said Tedros stiffly, trying to avoid his eyes. They were uncomfortably similar to Lancelot’s. “You?”

“Waiting for you, actually.”

“I don’t want your help, Galahad.”

“Not that. I wanted to say sorry for… them. The other knights. I know they annoy you.”

Tedros bit his lip.

“They don’t…” he trailed off. “Well, they do.” he looked uncomfortably out at the rising sun. “I thought they were coming because they actually wanted to help me. That’s all.”

“And instead you perceive they’re trying to relive their younger years again.”

Tedros glanced at him.

“You think they’re not?”

Galahad shrugged.

“They are. But I met them all on the border of Nottingham and they were really quite enthusiastic about getting to see you again. Kept going on about how it wasn’t fair and how they’d help you since everyone else had abandoned you, but…”

“But then they realised they haven’t seen me for seven years and don’t know how to react now that I’m revealed to be the exact thing they went around the Woods trying to defeat with Father.” muttered Tedros. 

“More or less.” admitted Galahad. 

Another squadron of soldiers were filing through the gates-- Ravenswood, by the look of the banner. Only Ravenswood and Thicket Tumble had openly declared their allegiance to Tedros-- everyone else had done it in secret, so they would be able to attend the wedding without being blocked by Rhian. Tedros, who knew social engagements and royal weddings inside out, had proposed they disguised themselves as members of the Bloodbrook royal entourage, in order to get into the citadel and the palace unchallenged, since Bloodbrook had yet to declare allegiance to either King. 

“He wouldn’t have minded.” said Galahad, suddenly. 

Somehow, Tedros knew he didn’t mean Arthur. 

“He’d have laughed.” he muttered. “He’d have laughed at me and cuffed me around the ears and that would have been the end of it.”

Galahad grinned. 

“And he’d have bought you some dumb Never hat for your birthday.”

“And I’d have worn it.” Tedros muttered. 

He sank down to sit opposite the older man. Reaper came and circled their feet. He seemed to have decided to stay in Tintagel, though Tedros couldn’t really understand why.

“Galahad, how did you-- you find out?”

“Robin sent me and Mother a message.” said Galahad calmly, scratching Reaper’s ears. “I stopped at his grave on the way here.”

Tedros swallowed. 

“I didn’t even think to tell you.”

“Naturally. You were a bit busy.” Galahad looked up at the statue again. 

“He left you.” mumbled Tedros. “Like mother left me.”

“He did.” said Galahad. “And it hurt. But I was twenty one and had been a knight five years already, and I had my mother. You were nine, and had...”

“An alcoholic father who died promptly after his wife left him.”

There was a pause.

“I don’t know if he was sorry.” admitted Galahad. “I saw him and your mother when Merlin brought them, a few months ago. He was happy to see me, and he apologised for just disappearing, but I didn’t feel like he was actually… regretful.”

“I wonder the same about my mother.” mumbled Tedros. “Especially now.”

“From a Good perspective… well. Good is like that.” said Galahad. “They do what they think is right for _everyone_ , at the time. Doesn’t mean they’re happy with what they’re doing, but,  equally, it doesn’t always mean they regret what they did. Sometimes it works out, sometimes it doesn’t. Nevers… there’s less duty to the collective. Everything’s more about your personal duty. To yourself.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t feel bad about leaving everyone--” began Tedros, but Galahad cut him off.

“Of course you do. But at the time, you wanted to leave. It’s just that now, you want to go and get everyone back. It makes you more prone to mistakes, but it also makes it easier to fix them.”

He paused. 

“Kay was wrong, wasn’t he? About them treating Agatha well.”

Reaper looked up hopefully at the mention of Agatha. Tedros grimaced.

“Course he was. This isn’t thirty years ago. They seem to think that Rhian and Japeth will be bound by some code of chivalry, when they’ve already duped everyone three times over and stuck some scims in Agatha’s head to try and make her kill me.”

Galahad raised his eyebrows. 

“And how are you going to get her out of that one?”

“Normally I’d try something vaguely useless and be told in no uncertain terms she could get herself out of it.” muttered Tedros. “But this time she can’t.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to kill the Snake.”

He waited for Galahad to laugh, like everyone else had. 

Galahad did not laugh. 

“Well then,” he said, standing slowly and stretching. “You’d better get training.”

“Yeah.” Tedros stood, trying not to tread on a pacing Reaper. He paused. “Are you coming?”

“I thought you didn’t want my help.” said Galahad wryly.

“I may have lied.”

“I thought that was the case.”

* * *

“This can’t last.” Kei said, the night before the wedding.

Sophie stopped outside the dinner hall, straining to hear the voices inside. 

“Of course it can, don’t be ridiculous.” snapped Rhian.

“You think she’ll do a thing you say once Japeth’s disposed of the witch girl?”

“I’m not intending on  _ disposing  _ of Agatha.”

“Japeth clearly is!”

“My brother and I have come to an agreement about this, Kei. Since Agatha will become the Queen’s sister once I have married Sophie, she needs to be treated respectfully. She can be a member of her household. A Lady of the Bedchamber, or something.”

“And let them plot together?”

“She’ll be in no mental state to plot anything.” said Japeth’s voice, quieter, from near the door. Sophie tensed, but Rhian sighed. 

“I don’t know what Tedros’s death at her hands will do to her. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“And their friends?” pressed Kei.

“I’ll have them either permanently locked up or executed. But the other Reader girl swore fealty to me yesterday. She gave me invaluable information.”

Sophie turned to Nicola, eyebrows raised. The more this girl did, the more she was impressed. 

“Which was?”

“Foxwood is wavering. The King thinks Tedros might win.”

They’d met the Bettina girl last night, in the gardens. She’d given them the proof about Rhian and Japeth, told them their plans to spread it secretly around the Kingdom Council… and told them how Tedros was going to get in. 

Sophie always knew he was smarter than he looked. 

“He won’t.” snarled Japeth. “What’s he going to do, kill you?”

“He can’t kill Rhian.” said Kei, suddenly sounding tense. “He’s a fool and a terrible swordsman.”

“Lets not do this now.” said Rhian grimly. “Sophie will be here soon. There’s no way he can get into the city, let alone the wedding.”

Nicola and Sophie exchanged glances. 

“It doesn’t  _ matter  _ whether he can get into the wedding or not, it matters that he’s gathering support, and you fail to see why that’s a problem!” cried Kei.

“ _ Potential  _ support from the foolish King of Foxwood, and help from the long-irrelevant rulers of Ravenswood and Thicket Tumble.” said Rhian coolly. “Don’t make me laugh. Or do you know something I don’t about his capabilities,  _ Sir Kei _ ?”

“Title instead of name. Brutal.” muttered Nicola. 

A pause. Nicola and Sophie strained to hear--

“No, my lord.” mumbled Kei. 

Sophie sagged in relief.

“Hm.”

Rhian fell silent. 

Their internal divisions were widening, it seemed. 

A pity.

Sophie decided she had heard enough, and flung the door open, stalking down the hall with Agatha and Nicola trailing her. Immediately, three tense faces turned towards her, and she frowned. 

“Were you  _ fighting _ ? The night before my wedding? How uncouth.”

“Not fighting.” insisted Rhian immediately, standing and pulling out a chair for her. “Just… discussing. Arrangements.”

“Well, can you do it without making it feel like it’s  _ funeral  _ arrangements? Goodness. Oh, Agatha, how many times have I told you that you can sit down as well? Look, Kei and Nicola are--”

Agatha sat silently on Sophie’s other side after a brisk nod from Rhian. Japeth looked pleased by her compliance. Sophie gritted her teeth and fluffed her hair to cover it. 

“What were you discussing, anyhow? I thought I was party to any details about the wedding. I  _ am  _ the bride.”

“Just security arrangements.” said Rhian, as the first course was brought in. “Nothing much interesting.”

“What, you think someone’s going to smuggle Teddy inside the cake?” scoffed Sophie. “Oh, you boys are funny.”

“Nothing funny about trying to make sure neither of us get murdered.” said Rhian thinly. Sophie sighed.

“You think Teddy is going to come and kill us at a wedding?  _ Darling.  _ He’s not that classy. He walks around without a shirt half the time. Besides, he has no stomach for murder. He backed out of killing me the first time. Most likely he’ll send someone else to do it. He, himself, lacks subtlety.”

“Seems to me as if you’re just trying to convince us he won’t come.” said Japeth. 

“Do you think I’d want him to ruin the day I’ve been dreaming of since I was four?” sneered Sophie. “I just because I wanted to marry Tedros when I was fifteen doesn’t mean I want him at my  _ real  _ wedding, Never with nefarious intent or not--”

“What say you, Captain?” interrupted Japeth suddenly. “You seem interested.”

Heart in her mouth, Sophie turned to Agatha, who was looking at them, suddenly engaged. 

“Something you know about Tedros and weddings?” pressed Japeth, eyes narrowed--

“Japeth, leave her alone.” snapped Rhian. “You’re trying to confuse her on purpose.”   
“We need that ring.”

“What ring?” demanded Sophie. She glanced at her hand. “What’s wrong with mine?”

“Nothing, my sweet, it doesn’t matter.” insisted Rhian. “We have a new one for a new era--”

“You know the entire plan works better if she wears the original ring of the Queen of Camelot!” interrupted Japeth. “We promised we’d find it to legitimise the marriage, after the Kingdom Council got antsy--”

“We’ll say Tedros has it.”

“But he  _ doesn’t _ . She has it. And if she still has it, they look more legitimate than you. I know she has it, and we need to take it off her.  _ Tell me what you did with Tedros’s ring, Agatha. _ ” 

Sophie stood furiously, intending to defend her, Japeth turned equally furiously to her, Rhian stood to break them up, Kei and Nicola looked uncomfortably around--

“I hid it.”

Everyone’s heads snapped to look at Agatha. 

Agatha stared at them, looking distinctly confused.

“I hid it.” she repeated.

“I  _ knew  _ it!” barked Japeth. “Where?”

“I wasn’t supposed to tell.” mumbled Agatha, frowning. 

“No one told you that. Tell us.”

“It was a secret. I had to hide it.”

“ _ Where?” _

“Don’t tell us if you don’t want to, Aggie--” interjected Sophie.

“Don’t confuse her!” snarled Japeth. “He has to have proposed for a wedding to even be planned, she knows where it is--”

“I had to swim.” murmured Agatha. Sophie groaned softly, knowing that was definitely relevant...

Japeth sat back, eyes narrowed. 

“Thank you.”

Agatha muttered something to herself and went back to her plate.

“King’s Cove.” murmured Rhian. “Or the lake, or the coast along here. I’ll send parties to search all three tomorrow morning.”

“What’s the point?” muttered Kei. “You’ll never find it.”

“I didn’t  _ ask  _ you, traitor.” snapped Japeth. 

“I’m not the one who directly defies his orders.” said Kei coldly. 

“You’ve abandoned him before.”

“And you haven’t? Letting Aric take a knife to his head? I know you want to be King. Surprised you didn’t do it yourself, to be honest--”

A scim flew from Japeth’s suit and positioned it in front of his mouth. 

“I have no intention of betraying my brother.” said Japeth coldly. “But I have every intention of ripping out your  _ tongue--” _

A hand snatched the scim from the air and crushed it.

“Leave him alone, Japeth.” commanded Rhian, hand dripping black goo over the table. 

Japeth’s face darkened, and his scim suit writhed irritably. 

“You’d choose him over me?”

“That’s not what I did. Or said--”

Agatha put her head in her hands, clearly affected by Japeth’s agitation, and Sophie took that as her cue to leave. 

* * *

“I hid it.” Agatha repeated over and over that morning, seizing her arm as Sophie turned away from her to try and put her dress on.

“I know you did.” said Sophie frantically. “But you can’t be like this at the wedding--”

She turned to put her earrings in, and caught sight of Agatha staring at her boots in the mirror. The standard issue guard boots, not her usual…

In a flash, Sophie realised what Agatha had mumbled to herself last night. 

_ I took them off. _

“Aggie.” she said softly, somewhere between impressed and terrified. She knew full well she couldn’t say anything to her without Japeth being able to hear it, but... “Would you go and fetch my dress? It’s just in the seamstress’s office a floor down.”

Agatha left without a word, and the second the door was shut…

Sophie dove back into Agatha’s old bedroom, eyes scanning furiously. She’d lied. She’d lied to Japeth, purposefully or not, but she’d still  _ lied,  _ because that wasn’t where she hidden Tedros’s ring. 

She’d gotten confused, tripped over her own train of thought, and told them where he’d  _ proposed,  _ not where he’d hidden the ring _.  _ And if they were swimming, she’d have had to have taken off her shoes, and--

Her bare foot caught a loose floorboard. Swearing, she grabbed her toe--

Then realised. 

Eyes wide, Sophie crouched next to it, got her hand under, and pried it up.

She had always hated Agatha’s clumps, but right now, she was so happy to see them she could have cried. She pulled them out from under the floorboards, and put her hands inside. There was something under the ragged lining of the left one. Breathless, she yanked it up--

And pulled out the ring of the Queen of Camelot. 

So relieved it was almost painful, she sagged into a heap on the floor. Only Agatha could have thought so fast. She must have hidden it when she changed into her guard’s uniform. And even under Japeth’s control, she’d still managed to send them on a wild goose chase looking for it.

Quickly, Sophie shoved it back under the lining and considered what to do. With any luck, Tedros would turn up at the wedding, cause a huge scene, and bring them back to Tintagel. No time to fetch anything, so…

She needed to convince Agatha to wear them. 

The door opened. 

“Aggie!” Sophie said brightly. “You’ll never guess what I found.”

* * *

“It’s true.” Bettina hissed to Tedros, pulling her horse in beside him as they rode behind the King of Bloodbrook. 

Tedros twisted in his saddle to look at her.

“It is?  _ Excellent.  _ What did you hear?”

“Neighbours said they saw Rafal arrive the day they were born. Kept quiet because they were scared. Said the mother’s name was Eve. They just told me she wore a blue dress, used to be a teacher, but her description fitted that of--”

“Evelyn Sader.” anticipated Tedros, suddenly putting the pieces together. “Kei was  _ right? _ ”

“Yes.” admitted Bettina. 

“She was obsessed with him. Didn’t think he’d reciprocate, but I suppose if it suited his purposes…” Tedros pulled his hood further down his face as they passed a squadron of guards. Bettina examined her notes closer. 

“A few Arbed classmates say that The Snake, Japeth, whatever you want to call him-- his real name is RJ. Rafal Japeth.”

“Ridiculous name.” sneered Tedros. 

“Also that Japeth himself never even believed Rhian’s claim to be the son of Arthur. Only person who did was Kei.”

“Interesting.”

“Apparently they had a huge falling out after Aric stabbed Rhian in the head, and their relationship never really recovered-- I think Japeth is only supporting him because he wants something, not because he believes it.”

“I knew Aric had been to Arbed, but he never told me anything about that.” mused Tedros. “Didn’t know they knew one another. What does he wa--”

He caught sight of a banner hung from a window, and the words died in his throat. 

Rhian’s face stared nobly into the distance, painted in the regalia of the King of Camelot. Words around his head read;

_ HAIL TO RHIAN PENDRAGON, YOUR ONE TRUE KING _

Tedros and Bettina realised at the same time. 

“That story that my mother told us, when we were kids--” began Bettina. 

“About the King who wanted to destroy the 100 Storian Rings owned by the 100 main leaders of the Woods and replace the Storian as the supreme power in the Woods?” finished Tedros weakly.

“I thought it was just a story.” admitted Bettina. 

“Nothing’s just a story in these damned Woods.” muttered Tedros. “My father started to pursue it before he died, I remember it being mentioned. Until now, I’d forgotten about it.”

“So he’s aiming to become the One True King.” murmured Bettina. “So he can do… what?”

“Kill us all, presumably. Typical.” Tedros turned to his other side. “Ravan, have you heard about this?” 

Ravan grimaced. 

“Now you mention it, yes. Rhian has been petitioning the Kingdom Council, including Sultana Mahati, to reject the School for Good and Evil and destroy the Storian rings.”

“There was an article in the  _ Rot  _ the other week.” said Bettina. “All anti-school, talking about how it was elitist and unfair and didn’t tell ordinary people’s stories. They actually made some good points.”

“The School only accepting applications from Descendants, apart from the two Readers, has always been a point of contention.” said Tedros. “But I highly doubt Rhian is invested in this because of a genuine interest in the people’s welfare. He just wants people not to complain when he replaces the Storian.”

“Master manipulator.” mused Ravan. “We were saying in Evil that we’re actually highly impressed by him. His strategies are unmatched. More Evil than you.”

“Thanks for that, Ravan.” muttered Tedros.

“If you can actually manage to kill the Snake, I’ll reconsider my statement.”

Tedros pursed his lips, hand going to the swords at his hip. 

“Presumably, this wedding is pitched to try and increase his legitimacy as King, so that people might be more inclined to burn the rings.” said Bettina. “He wants Sophie to consolidate his power so the Nevers will choose him instead of you.”

“What a choice.” muttered Ravan. “Two vain, impetuous Nevers who spent most of their lives convinced they were Evers.”

“Whose side are you on, again?”

“Yours, but only because I’d rather Sophie wasn’t Queen of anything, let alone Camelot.”

“Good to know.” muttered Tedros, knowing Ravan had come to him out of a desire to actually help, and was just being a pain. 

“Halt!” shouted the guards at the gate, and the party ground to a stop. Tedros glanced across at the King of Bloodbrook, who looked completely unruffled. Mahati was with him, disguised as courtiers, while Arne waited outside the citadel, ready to escort the escaping prisoners back to Tintagel. 

“They don’t have time to inspect all of us.” muttered Ravan as the King and the guards argued. “He’s infamous for bringing huge attending parties to everything.”

“Hope you’re right.” said Bettina tersely--

“Acceptable.” declared the lead guard. “Please be aware there will be random checks throughout the day. Hail to Rhian Pendragon, the One True King, on this glorious day of his wedding.”

“He’s so pompous.” sneered Tedros. Ravan elbowed him to get him to shut up.

The King repeated it unenthusiastically, and the party moved forwards through the gates.

* * *

“Shame we’re not invited to this glorious wedding.” said Hester, biting her nails and spitting them on the floor. “Perhaps we could heckle. Or object. Or trip the groom.”

“You’d do that at any wedding.” said Dot. 

“True.” grinned Hester.

“They can’t leave us down here  _ forever.”  _ insisted Hort. “Maybe Sophie will be able to convince Rhian--”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Hort.” snapped Anadil, before Hester could slap him down. “Either they  _ will _ leave us down here forever, or they’ll strong-arm us into working for them, or execute us. You’re just sulking because Sophie chose Nicola to be released and not you.”

Hester snorted as Hort reddened. 

“I don’t see why she did. Nic can’t turn into a wolf.”

“ _ Nic  _ is clever enough to play along and work out a strategy.” said Anadil. “Whereas you’d be trying to kill Rhian at every opportunity because you think that will convince Sophie to marry you instead, and then everyone would die because you’d get caught.”

“I don’t like Sophie anymore!” insisted Hort.

“Keep telling yourself that one, Scourie.” said Hester, peering out at the patrolling guards.

“Heard something interesting this morning.” said Beatrix, from the adjoining cell. “They’re looking for Agatha’s ring. Apparently Japeth got something about swimming out of her last night, and now they’re scouring the lake, King’s Cove, and the coast down the cliff from here.”

Hester’s mirth faded.

“She told him?”

“Sounded as if it was a pretty vague piece of information, and now they’re confused, but it’s definitely what she said.”

Hester glanced nervously at her covenmates. 

“Why do they want it so badly?”

“Tedros gave Agatha the official ring of the Queen of Camelot when he proposed.” came Guinevere’s voice from down the dank hallway. “It legitimises their claim and makes Rhian’s look weaker, since he’ll have fewer connections to the original Pendragon line.”

“He gave something that valuable to Agatha?” muttered Beatrix. “She probably lost it.” 

“Don’t be mean.” snapped Hester. “If she did, good. It means that the bastard looks weaker.”

“But she told them--”

“Whatever she told them, it sounds as if they haven’t found it yet.” said Anadil calmly. “She might have lied. We know she’s strong-minded enough to keep breaking through the influence, and it seems likely that she’d have realised, even subconsciously, that she didn’t want to tell them.” 

Everyone glanced down the corridor at Dovey’s cell. 

“I have nothing to tell you.” said the Dean heavily. “I don’t know how Japeth’s magic works, or to what extent Agatha can resist it. I don’t know why she fainted on the ride back from Tintagel. I would need to talk to her, and I can’t.”

They fell into a tense silence. 

“My father’s coming to this wedding.” said Reena finally. “To petition my release.”

“Better hope the revered King is feeling benevolent, then.” grumbled Hester. “Anadil, Dot, can’t your parents exercise any influence?”

“My mother is only a Countess. Dot’s father is not taken… particularly seriously.”

Dot made no protest. Anadil continued;

“They’re both coming, but I’m not convinced they have enough influence to convince him. The Sultan will be the most likely success.”

“If we announced our engagement now, I could come with you.” Beatrix told Reena gloomily. 

“Somehow, I don’t think Rhian really cares about anyone else’s engagement.” sighed Reena.

Hester let their discussion fade into the background, listening to the distinctive sounds of the guard changing over--

The clanking of armour suddenly stopped.

A loud crash echoed from upstairs, followed by the sound of a scuffle, someone swore, the sound of something being hit into the metal door to the dungeons, and then…

Silence.

“Um.” said Beatrix. “Why did that sound like the guards getting incapacitated?”

Everyone was looking, now.

A key scrabbled in the lock, turned, clicked. Then, a pause.

The door slammed open.

“Hail to Rhian Pendragon, the One True King, on this glorious day of his wedding.” said Tedros sarcastically, looking down at them from the top of the stairs. 

“Holy shit,” said Beatrix, not sounding surprised in the slightest. “You’re alive.” 

“And sexy.” said Dot. “Nice outfit.”

Hester hit her to shut her up.

“Tedros!” Guinevere bolted upright. 

“What are you  _ doing  _ here?” demanded Hort. “You can’t rescue all of us on your own!” 

“Just because I am physically on my own doesn’t mean I haven’t brought allies.” said Tedros thinly, descending the stairs briskly and selecting the keys to the cells from the clearly stolen keyring. “Mother, you know the passage behind that statue of Uther, down the corridor from here?”

Guinevere blinked.

“Yes, but--”

“Everyone’s to go through there. It comes out next to the River Usk. Walk due east down the bank, you’ll be escorted back to Tintagel.”

“Hang on.” said Hester. “You can’t just send us all away.”

“I’ve enough soldiers as it is. It’s easier to send you all on ahead.”

“No.” said Hester firmly, coming to get up in his face as he picked the lock on the Coven and Hort’s cell. “We’re helping you get Agatha back.”

“I can kill the Snake alone.” said Tedros coolly, swinging the cell door open--

“We want to kill the Mistral Sisters.” said Hester. “One Coven to another.”

“Yeah,” said Beatrix. “I want to fight. I can do it.”

Tedros was clearly about to refuse--

“You’re not the only one who cares about her.” snapped Hester.

She knew she’d won when Tedros turned away. 

“Alright.” he said grimly. “You four  _ only.  _ And if you get caught again, it’s not my fault.”

“Talking like a Never doesn’t suit you.” said Hester, stepping out into the passageway. Tedros ignored her, letting out Beatrix, Kiko and Reena and turning to his mother and Dovey--

“I know what the Snake wants from Rhian.” said Dot. “If we’re providing extra information.”

“What?” said Tedros distractedly--

“Aric. He wants Rhian to become the One True King and bring Aric back.”

Tedros turned incredulously to her, helping his mother up.

“ _ Aric?” _

“They were a thing at their school. Nicola overheard him and Kei arguing about it, and told us.”

A pause--

Tedros laughed.

“ _ Aric.  _ He’s deluded. Aric would never have him, or anyone.”

“He’s convinced,” said Dovey. “He’ll do anything for it. Don’t get cocky about this, Tedros.”

“Anyone have anything else to tell me?” asked Tedros, ignoring his old professor. 

“Agatha’s ring. Where did she hide it?” asked Guinevere as Tedros stepped back to let them all gather in the hall. 

Tedros’s brow furrowed.

“Her ring? I don’t know. Is it missing?”

“They wanted to use it for the wedding, but they can’t find it. She said something vague about swimming, and now they’re scouring everywhere they can think of, but--”

Before Tedros could reply, bells started to ring.

“Time to go.” said Tedros. “Whatever you’ve got to say, it can wait until later.”

* * *

Sophie tried to ignore the reality of her situation by critiquing people’s outfits. 

Her own was vastly superior,  _ obviously--  _ metres of ivory silk and lace, tailored to fit her figure perfectly, studded with rubies and pearls, from the girdle to the cuffs to even the necklace tight around her throat. She usually considered chokers rather too Never looking, but today, she was meant to be accentuating her Never-ness. Ironic, considering she looked like an  _ angel _ in white, quite frankly, but Rhian had vehemently made sure she understood the importance of a union between Evers and Nevers (had he even  _ read _ her tale? Podge.) so she’d chosen it because of that...

And because it rather reminded her of a collar, and she felt distinctly, horribly, trapped. 

Face hidden beneath her veil, she risked a glance around. Agatha stood to her right, in dress uniform-- but with clumps restored. They didn’t look  _ that  _ different to guard’s boots, just distinctly shabbier. It had been a hard battle to convince Rhian to let it happen, but Sophie had insisted they needed to pay tribute to their tale, which had been the trailblazer for Good and Evil coming together, and she’d basically refused to shut up until Rhian had grudgingly agreed. 

Speaking of Rhian, her groom wore a doublet studded with the same pearls and rubies on her dress, the crown of Camelot on his stupid smug head. He looked frustratingly handsome, Sophie had to admit, but that didn’t stop him from being utterly unbearable. Japeth was lurking behind him, in a stupid millitary uniform that made him look sallow and pasty, and Kei was sulking next to him, looking much more handsome, and much more miserable. 

Sophie would usually have been amused by stealing someone else’s boyfriend, but she had to admit, she felt slightly guilty about how defeated Kei looked. 

As Rhian reached for the rings, Sophie glanced out at the audience. She’d gone through this whole ceremony in a daze, repeating what she was bidden to repeat and doing what she was bidden to do. There was someone in the King of Bloodbrook’s entourage wearing a  _ lovely  _ crushed velvet doublet. Black, slit to expose gold silk in the sleeves, sewn with tiny gold chains, and a chest slit that would have been more appropriate if  _ he  _ was getting married. Sophie loved it. Paired with those boots as well, and gloves, and that half-cape? Finally, someone who knew what they were doing--

Sophie reached his face just as Rhian handed her her ring. 

_ Oh-- _

“With this ring, I thee wed.” Rhian told Sophie, sliding the (new! hah) ring onto her finger. Japeth scowled behind him. 

Through gritted teeth, Sophie copied him.

“With this ring, I thee wed.” she repeated, trying to sound reverent and not completely furious. Rhian smiled, satisfied, and reached for her veil--

A voice came from the pews.

“Tell me, someone. What’s the procedure if the King is caught lying about his heritage?”

_ Finally. _

Rhian whirled, furious--

Tedros rose from the audience, looking nonchalant despite the gasps and shouts erupting around him. 

“ _ You!”  _ shouted Rhian. 

“It’s a simple question.” said Tedros, stepping out into the aisle. “What if he was, say, not Arthur’s son at all? What if he was… oh, I don’t know.  _ Rafal’s?” _

“Rafal’s?” repeated Queen Jacinda from the front pew. “What--”

All throughout the chapel, people turned to their neighbours, bewildered, repeating the claim. Tedros smiled at Rhian. 

“Yes, Rafal’s. That would be suitably scandalous, wouldn’t it?”

“I am Arthur’s son!” shouted Rhian. “How dare  _ you, _ of all people, bring my heritage into question?”

Behind Rhian, Japeth turned furiously--

“Guards! Captain!” he shouted. Sophie’s heart plunged. “Kill the imposter!”

Sophie lunged to stop Agatha, but it was too late-- she jumped from the dais and ran towards Tedros. The guests gasped and turned, some standing up to get a better look.

“Why is she attacking him?”

“Has she abandoned him?”

“I thought she loved him!”

Tedros tensed, reluctantly reaching for his sword--

Out of nowhere, someone tore from the shadows of the chapel and slammed into Agatha, knocking them both into the pews with a painful sounding  _ crack _ , and sending them sprawling--

Sophie recognised the blonde pixie cut.

“ _ Beatrix _ ?”

“THE PRISONERS HAVE ESCAPED!” bellowed Kei.

Screams and running erupted inside the church as more guests-- Tedros’s allies-- surged from the pews, drawing swords and knives, and rushed towards the advancing guards. Sophie staggered backwards, overwhelmed--

“GUARDS!” shouted Japeth, advancing to where Beatrix and Agatha grappled on the floor, the Mistral Sisters tailing him. “PROTECT YOUR KING!”

More armoured soldiers sprinted towards the altar, and towards Tedros--

But Sophie knew Japeth had miscalculated, because Tedros wasn’t interested in Rhian. He wasn’t even looking at him. 

He was looking at Japeth.

And his expression was pure murder. 

Japeth grabbed Beatrix by the collar and dragged her back, reached for Agatha--

Tedros stunned him so hard he flew backwards several feet and crashed into the altar, shattering the glass decorations and sending flowers flying. Tedros stalked after him, snarling, pulling one of his swords from his belt. 

Rhian ran for Sophie, shouting for the Mistral Sisters--

Shrieking came from the pews where they’d been sitting, and Sophie whirled to see the Sisters walled in by the Coven-- Hester’s demon terrorising Alpa as she sprinted down the aisle, Anadil duelling Bethna, and Dot simply forsaking magic and physically fighting with Omedia. She rushed forward to help, but it was unnecessary. She’d never seen Hester’s demon this big, this powerful, screeching and tearing at the oldest Sister whilst Hester shot spell after spell after her, face grim. 

Someone fell at her feet, and she jumped back as Bethna was blasted back across the floor, screaming as Anadil’s three rats, as big as dogs, turned their fangs on her. Sophie whirled away-- 

There was a shattering sound and a wail, and Sophie turned to see Dot stood before the broken window at the altar, staring down, her expression wilder than Sophie had ever seen it--

Just as Hester’s demon came down on Alpa for the final time, Agatha reached Tedros. She caught him around the waist and knocked him away from Japeth, going for his throat. Tedros grabbed her hands and tried to hold her back, Agatha snatched them back and punched him, disturbingly hard.

“Sophie!” Rhian rushed up and grabbed her, eyes wide. “Leave now, go with Kei--”

Then Sophie noticed Japeth, laughing from the altar, scims peeling off his suit and making for both Tedros and Agatha as they fought, but mostly for Agatha--

Sophie tore from Rhian’s grip, snatched her veil off, and  _ screamed _ . 

Immediately, people began to scream with her-- guard’s armour dented, people fainted, stone cracked, Rhian and Kei cowered behind a pillar, Tedros forcibly covered Agatha’s ears--

Japeth fell to his knees, blood running from his nose, scims wavering madly towards her. Spitting and snarling, he made for her--

Cackling madly, Sophie went up an octave, and raised her hands.

Every stained glass window in the chapel exploded inwards, raining rainbow shards of glass on everyone in the chapel. Tedros flung himself across Agatha and everyone else dove under the pews, but most people were too late, cut on the face or the neck or the arm. 

Screeching with vengeful laughter, Sophie staggered down from the altar, blood running down her face and onto her white dress, matching the rubies--

“I TOLD YOU TO KILL HIM!” screamed Japeth from the floor, and Tedros shouted as Agatha jerked upright, snatching a piece of glass from the floor and slashing for his throat, which she only narrowly missed. Japeth turned to Sophie, scim in hand turning knife-sharp as Tedros vaulted the pews, Agatha staggering and jerking after him like a mannequin. Sophie held out her fingerglow, preparing to scream again--

Then caught sight of Tedros approaching, face ugly with loathing, and changed her mind.

She dove past Japeth and grabbed Agatha, dragging her backwards, away from Tedros and towards the melee still raging behind them. Agatha kicked and screamed and clawed at her, but Sophie had always been stronger, despite being shorter, and she hauled her away--

The resounding crack of Japeth’s head ricocheting off the stone floor, however, made her turn. 

Tedros caught the first scim and crushed it in his bare hand, and tore the second one in half with his teeth. Spitting blood and black gore, he caught Japeth’s head in his hands, forced him to the floor, and bashed it against the stone, repeatedly. 

“Rhian!” screamed Japeth, trying to buck Tedros off of him, scims stabbing at his face. “Rhian! Help me!”

But Sophie could see Rhian, clutching Kei behind a pillar, and his face didn’t change.

“Believe me,” spat Tedros. “He’s not going to.”

With a roar, Japeth threw him off, sending Tedros’s sword skittering across the stone, and swept a hand towards Agatha, twisting it. Agatha shouted and doubled over, hands going to her head--

Tedros punched him and knocked him back onto the floor.

_ “I told you I’d kill you for that! _ ”

“You won’t.” heaved Japeth, trying to struggle back to his feet. “You won’t!”

The remaining scims shot towards Tedros, slashing him across the face, the chest. He crumpled to the floor, coughing, and Sophie started to run back towards him--

But then she noticed that his eyes were still open, and stopped.

A bluff. 

Japeth rose to his feet, snarling and dripping with blood, and directed the scims for Tedros’s heart--

Tedros rolled over, swept up his sword, plunged it upwards--

And drove the blade through the Snake’s heart with a sickening crunch. 

Japeth stopped dead with a horrible, strangled gasp, eyes bulging and blood leaking from his mouth. 

“Give Aric my regards, when you see him.” spat Tedros, eyes alight with maddening fury. “He failed to kill me too.” 

Japeth’s eyes widened--

Tedros wrenched the blade from his chest, reared back, and severed the Snake’s head with one blow, spraying blood across the white marble of the chapel.

Japeth’s head hit the ground with a wet thud, the body following just after. 

Everyone stared. Rhian froze. Kei’s face became unreadable--

Agatha collapsed, and Sophie caught her just before she started to scream. 

* * *

Agatha was lying on the chapel floor, and everything hurt. 

She was faintly aware of the fact that someone was screaming. Was it her? Possibly. She didn’t really know. She knew that she was on the floor and everything hurt, especially her head. Her hip and shoulder, as well, but  _ especially  _ her head. She was bleeding from her ears, and her nose, and her mouth, and something  _ inside  _ her head was screaming too and it hurt. She took a shuddering breath and the screaming stopped, but it would probably start again, because she could barely do anything but think about how much it  _ hurt-- _

Hands grabbed her and she tried to throw them off, convinced Japeth was back--

“No, Aggie, it’s me--”

Agatha tried to say Sophie’s name, but got stuck somewhere in the middle and started choking on blood, spasming on the cold stone.

“Eris, make her stop!” 

“I’ll need to sedate her.” said an unfamiliar voice from above them. 

“No--” Agatha gasped as someone’s hand dug into the back of her neck, followed by something sharp. “Leave me alone--”

“It’s just temporary, sweetheart, don’t worry--”

She sounded like Callis. 

“I want my mom.” sobbed Agatha, scrabbling at Sophie’s knees. “Sophie--”

“It’s okay, Aggie--”

More unfamiliar voices.

“Can you fix her hip? Clearly damaged.”

“Not here, that’ll be a nightmare. Do it in the wagon.”

It was getting harder to concentrate. It still hurt. Agatha didn’t know any of these people. Were they working for Rhian? They couldn’t take her anywhere, she wouldn’t let them, what were they doing to her--

The pain in her head redoubled and Agatha started crying again.

“Oh, Teddy, take her now, come on--” 

“Perhaps that would be best. Tedros, pick her up--”

“Tedros?” Agatha repeated brokenly.

“It’s alright, my love.” Tedros’s voice was shaking. “I’m here, it’s fine, I’m just going to pick you up--”

“It hurts.”

“I know, I know, come on--”

She was being lifted from the floor, and she could hear people running, but they were getting further away.

“It hurts.” she repeated faintly. 

“It won’t last long, I promise.” Tedros clasped her tightly to his chest and hurried after the others. Agatha thought he was right; it was going away. Maybe. A little. 

“I hid it.” she said, clutching at Tedros’s shirt with her free arm. She’d told a lot of people this. She had it. She could feel it digging into her foot. 

“Hid what?” asked Tedros. 

“The ring.”

“Where?”

“We went swimming.” said Agatha faintly. 

“I know we did, but I don’t know what that means.”

Agatha frowned, frustrated. 

“We went-- I--”

“It’s in your shoe, isn’t it?” said Sophie from her left. 

“...yes.” Agatha relaxed, relieved she was understood. “I hid it. I didn’t want to lose it.” she paused. “I love you.”

Tedros’s voice cracked. 

“I know. I love you too.”

They hurried after the others. Agatha couldn’t feel anything, now. 

She was bleeding. 


	2. PART 2: THE DRUG, THE DARK, THE LIGHT, THE FLAME

**PART 2: THE DRUG, THE DARK, THE LIGHT, THE FLAME**

_ Anger-- sing, goddess, the anger of Achilles, son of Peleus, that accursed anger, which brought the Greeks endless sufferings and sent the mighty souls of many warriors to Hades, leaving their bodies as carrion for the dogs and a feast for the birds _

_ \-- _

_ Opening Invocation of Homer’s Iliad, translated by E.V Rieu _

**_AGATHA_ ** **KNEW TEDROS WAS THERE BEFORE HE SPOKE.**

“Not like you to skip dinner.”

“I’m not hungry.” said Agatha, unconvincingly. She  _ was _ hungry. But the idea of going to a dinner with all those nobles...

“I brought dessert.”

Agatha looked down at Tedros from the rock she was sitting on. Tedros peered up at her, buffeted by the coastal wind, clutching something wrapped in a napkin.

“What kind of dessert is it?” she said.

“Ginger cake.”

“You don’t like ginger cake.”

“But you do.”

A pause. 

“Can I come up?”

“I’ll allow it.”

Tedros smiled, scrabbling up to sit beside her.

“Is the Savage Sea really worth missing dinner for?” he asked, handing her the napkin.

They both knew full well that wasn’t why she’d skipped it, but Agatha decided to play along. 

“No beaches in Gavaldon.” she said, through a mouthful of cake. “No coastline.”

“Oh. Didn’t think of that.” Tedros paused. “How come you can swim, then?”

“I told you.”

“You told me in first year that you went through so many witch trials by water that you could hold your breath for thirty minutes.”

“You believed it, didn’t you?”

“No.” grumbled Tedros. 

Agatha, who knew full well he had done, crammed another piece of cake into her mouth and waited him out. 

“...Yes.” said Tedros. “But I’m going to assume there was a lake.”

“My mother threw me in and told me to swim back. Nearly drowned the first time.”

Tedros took a breath--

“You are  _ far _ too easy to trick.” sighed Agatha, brushing her hands off and crumpling the napkin. “Yes, I learned in the lake. Most kids did. Sophie didn’t, because she thought it was cold and unpleasant and because I threatened to push her in.”

“Naturally.”

“I would have done it, as well.”

“Me too.”

“I’m sure she’d say the same about you.” 

“Probably.” Tedros swung his legs, frowning. “Listen--”

“If you’re about to try and apologise for the nobles, don’t bother. You’re not King yet. They’re getting their shots in before you’re crowned tomorrow.”

“But--”

“They kind of have a point.” yawned Agatha, eyeing the sun sinking below the waterline. “Not gonna look great next to all the other Queen’s portraits, am I?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Tedros snapped. Agatha raised her eyebrows at him and he reddened. “I only meant--”

“I know what you meant.” muttered Agatha.

They fell silent. 

Tedros bounced his leg. 

Agatha looked at him and he stopped.

She looked away. He started again. 

“Let’s go for a walk.” Agatha said firmly. “You’re getting cold feet about tomorrow.”

“I’m no--”

Agatha looked at him and Tedros closed his mouth with a snap.

* * *

“This is weird.” said Agatha, wading through the shallows with her clumps slung over her shoulder. “I can see proper fish.”

“Uh, yeah, that’s how the sea works.”

“No big fish in the lake at home. Just frogs and minnows.”

“There’s a metaphor in there, somewhere.”

“You know what a metaphor is?” 

“Shut up.”

Agatha grinned. 

“You’re right, though. If I’d stayed, maybe I’d have been forced to marry Radley.”

“That ginger kid who was at the execution?” Tedros looked stricken. 

“He’s practically the  _ you _ of the village, Tedros. He still has all his teeth.”

“You’re embellishing.” said Tedros. “Right?”

Agatha ignored him, abandoning her clumps on a rock and wading deeper into the water.

“Mrs Radley. Yeah, that’s got a nice ring to it. I could make him my mother’s lizard soup whilst he goes to work at the mill, pop put lots of ugly children, and then die of smallpox at the ripe old age of nineteen because they killed the only capable doctor in the village.”

“You’re  _ traumatising _ me, Agatha--”

“Oh, no, it’s perfectly realistic.” said Agatha brightly. “The Elders arrange marriages for everyone, in order to make sure there are enough kids to get kidnapped, so they’d be expecting us to consummate pretty quickly. Wouldn’t make much of an affair out of the wedding.”

She could see Tedros’s face out of the corner of her eye, and he looked vaguely unwell. 

“In fact, I think that--”

Before she could get the rest of the sentence out, Tedros grabbed her and shoved her under the waves. Suddenly freezing, eyes stinging with salt water, Agatha yanked out of his grip and kicked his leg out to bring him down with her. They flailed in the water for a minute, grappling and swearing at one another;

“You bastard, this  _ stings! _ ”

“This is a nice jacket, why did you shove me--”

“Why did _I_ shove _you_?”

“Why are  _ you _ trying to make me jealous with some kind of Gavaldon Hort clone? I was planning on proposing to you tonight and you pull this--”

“I’m considering actually doing it, now-- wait, what?”

Tedros froze. Agatha gawked at him--

A wave hit him in the back and they both went underwater again. This time, Tedros regained his footing first, and yanked her upright--

“Why are you laughing?”

Somewhere between laughing and choking on seawater, Agatha could only splutter. Tedros slammed her on the back a couple of times before she could blurt out;

“You had a plan that I ruined, didn’t you?”

“I cycled through a few, but I was counting on you showing up to dinner.” muttered Tedros, pushing her hair out of her face. “Once you didn’t, I scrapped them and thought I’d just go and see if you were in a vaguely receptive mood. I was going to blurt it out before you accused me of being worried about the coronation.”

“Oh, you were actually worried about...” Agatha stopped. “Oh. Um. Sorry.”

A pause. She sagged.

“God. I can’t do any of this right, can I? Can’t even be in the right mood to get proposed to. Sophie would have been--”

“As you, and everyone else, should have come to terms with by now, I didn’t choose Sophie, and I’m not proposing to her.” said Tedros sternly. “I’m proposing to  _ you _ , because I want to marry you, not Sophie.”

“Get on with it, then.” said Agatha gloomily. 

To her surprise, Tedros started laughing. 

“You’re impossible.”

Agatha tried her best to glare at him.

“Don’t laugh at me.”

Tedros ignored her, and held out his hand. 

“There’s a small outcrop a couple of yards along the cliff-face. Let’s swim there.”

* * *

“How did you even know this was here?” demanded Agatha, a little later. 

“Found it when I was a kid.” said Tedros, hauling himself out of the water and lying his jacket out on the rocks. Agatha eyed the way his sodden shirt clung to his chest, then looked away quickly when he turned towards her. 

“Your parents let you swim out this far?”

“Nope. Lance did. He said he was just teaching me survival skills. I’m fairly sure he would have saved me if I’d started drowning.” he frowned thoughtfully. “Fairly.”

Agatha snorted. 

“Good to know you have faith in him.”

Tedros grinned and settled down next to her, pushing his wet hair back. 

“Don’t you wanna see it?”

“Hmm?”

“The ring, Agatha.”

“Oh.” Agatha sat up, reddening. “Er. Sure. I don’t really know much about rings, but--”

Tedros just looked at her, extracting a box from his pocket. Agatha blinked at him--

They started laughing at the same time. 

“This is such a mess.” groaned Agatha. “I’m so sorry. Sophie will have a fit when she hears.”

“Just don’t tell her.” said Tedros, putting the box into her hand. “Or lie to her and tell her it was terribly romantic and perfectly planned.”

“I just might.” Agatha opened the box and squinted at the ring. “Looks… nice.”

Tedros snorted.

“Astute. It’s the Queen’s ring. It changes a little every time it’s used, because it’s enchanted to be easy. Oh, and not to come off unless you want it to. I’ve had it resized and I changed it from one big diamond to three smaller ones. My father tried to win my mother over with the most ridiculous jewel, but she hardly cared for it, and I didn’t think you would, either. Also I changed the band to silver instead of gold, because you wear darker colours more and I thought it would compliment it better.” he frowned. “Is that okay?”

“...that sounds good.” said Agatha, oddly touched by the amount of thought he’d put into it. Tedros’s face settled in relief. 

“Oh. Good.”

Agatha held her left hand out to him. 

“Go on, then.”

Tedros beamed and practically snatched the box off her. Agatha watched him, feeling slightly guilty for messing it up multiple times, then realised he’d put it on and looked down to examine it on her hand--

When she looked up he was beaming at her. 

Never mind. He didn’t care. 

Agatha leaned over and kissed him. 

* * *

Then her dream changed. 

* * *

“A little too clever for your own good, I think.” said the Snake. “We’ll have to remedy that.”

Agatha stepped back, pushing down the floorboard she’d hidden her clumps under. 

“What are you--”

The Snake lazily raised a hand, and three scims floated lazily towards her, and burrowed into her ear. Agatha recoiled, feeling them slithering and writhing in her head, her thoughts becoming slowed and--

“Get out of my head.” whispered Agatha. 

The Snake laughed at her.

“Get out!”

The Snake laughed louder, the scims writhed harder-- 

“GET OUT OF MY HEAD!” screamed Agatha--

She put her lit fingerglow to her ear.

* * *

Agatha woke in a confused fog, tangled in furs in an unfamiliar bed, blood all over her face. People were surrounding her. 

“She got them out herself!”

“Shot herself in the head with a spell, they came out dead, Dovey trapped them and took them for study--”

“How did they stay alive after he died?”

“God knows--”

“Kind of metal, if you ask me.”

“No one  _ did _ , Hester--”

Outside, someone was shouting. Several people, but Tedros’s voice was loudest. 

Frightened and confused, Agatha tried to head towards him--

“No, no-- Aggie, it’s fine--” Sophie grabbed her around the middle and pulled her back.

* * *

The next time she woke, it was quieter. Someone was holding her up, wiping the blood off her face and neck as someone else stripped the sheets behind her.

Shaking, Agatha tried to lift her head--

“Ah. Not a good time to wake up.” A cold hand pressed her back down. “Don’t move, I’m nearly done. That was some spell.”

“Hester?” croaked Agatha. 

“Yeah. Anadil’s here, too. Everyone else is arguing with Tedros outside.”

“Tedros?”

“He’s fine.” said Anadil, briskly replacing the bloodied pillows. “Don’t worry about that now.”

“But--”

“Seriously, Agatha.” said Hester, smoothing her hair. “No one’s going anywhere.”

* * *

The third time she woke up, it was morning, and she could think much clearer. 

Gingerly, she sat up, propping herself against the headboard. She was in the same room as before, but she still didn’t recognise it. A cavernous stone chamber, mostly empty besides a few mismatched pieces of furniture, some random clothes scattered around, and the fire in the grate. Reaper, lying by her hip, cracked an eye open and meowed, but otherwise didn’t move. Agatha reached out to scratch his ears--

“About time.”

Agatha turned, confused, to find a brunette older woman she didn’t recognise sitting in a chair by the wall. She looked oddly familiar, though Agatha wasn’t quite sure why. 

“...do I know you?”

“We’ve never met, unless you count that disastrous wedding, which I wouldn’t.”

Agatha looked blankly at her, trying to get her brain to kick into gear. It was mostly refusing. 

“Why do you sound like--”

“Your mother?”

Agatha stared hard at her. The woman grimaced. 

“Perhaps making you guess is a tad mean. My name is Eris Wardwell. I’m Callis’s elder sister.”

It took Agatha a second to compute.

“You’re-- you’re my aunt?”

“If you like.” said Eris, standing and stretching. “I suppose Callis couldn’t tell you she had family, else there would have been inconvenient questions raised. But yes, there’s quite a lot of us in Netherwood. From an infamous Never clan, was your mother.” 

“My surname’s Wardwell?”

“Unless you’d prefer to use Vanessa’s.”

“I wouldn’t.” said Agatha immediately.

“Well then. Yes.” Eris looked searchingly at her. “Not all there, are you?”

“What? I’m fine--”

“Physically, yes, because I verged on the edge of black magic to fix you, but your brain’s taken something of a battering.” 

Agatha’s confusion must have shown on her face, because Eris sighed. 

“We’ll catch up later. I think you have more important things to be told.” 

Agatha blinked. 

“Like what?”

* * *

“You’re telling me the last thing you remember is  _ Rhian pulling Excalibur?” _

Agatha fidgeted nervously with her blanket, the incredulous faces of Hester and Sophie staring at her. They’d been drafted in to tell her what was going on, but really Sophie had spent about ten minutes crying and covering Agatha’s face in lipstick marks, and Hester had sat gruffly next to her, muttering some vague admission that she was glad Agatha was okay. 

“Um.” Agatha said nervously. “Maybe if you tell me some stuff, it’ll come back to me? I remember that-- that--”

_ Get out of my head.  _

“The Snake!” Agatha bolted upright. “He-- he’s alive, he put these things-- those scims-- in my head--”

“Which you got out.” said Hester. “Their power over your mind was broken when Japeth died, and you shot them out with a spell yesterday night.”

“I-- yeah.” Agatha frowned. “I did. You were there.”

“I was.” said Hester, looking slightly relieved she remembered--

Agatha frowned. 

“Wait, what do you mean? When Japeth died?”

“That’s the Snake’s real name.” said Sophie. “He was Rhian’s twin brother.”

“Yeah, I… I think I knew they were… sorry, did you say  _ was?” _

“The Snake’s dead, Agatha.”

“...huh?”

“He’s dead. Tedros killed him.”

“...no. No, he tried, but Rhian faked it.”

“You’re missing a massive chunk of memory.” said Hester. “That was the first time. The second time, he succeeded.”

Agatha looked blankly at them. 

Hester sighed heavily. 

“Quick rundown, then you can ask questions afterwards. Rhian pulled Excalibur, declared himself King and the son of Arthur, had Tedros arrested, then whipped out a bunch of letters. Remember what they said?”

“They said that… that Tedros was a Never! I’d forgotten-- I guess he was trying to discredit him--”

“No.” said Sophie. “It was true.”

“... _ what _ ? Tedros-- Tedros is  _ Evil _ ?”

“Yes.” said Hester briskly. “Reflect on that later. He stunned the guards, fled Camelot on Benedict the horse and went to Tintagel, which is where we are now.”

“...Arthur’s old fortress?” asked Agatha faintly, still stuck on the  _ Tedros is Evil  _ bit.

“Yes. At the same time, all of us were thrown in the dungeons, apart from Sophie, who Rhian wanted to be his Queen, and you, because Japeth had you under his control and wanted to use you as leverage to make Sophie do what they wanted.”

“Oh.” mumbled Agatha, glancing at Sophie, who was sitting quietly next to her, picking at the embroidery on a pillow. 

“It worked, because of course it did.” said Hester. “However, they decided they wanted you to lead the task force to Tedros at Tintagel, firstly because they thought you could find him easily, and also because--”

Something was bothering Agatha. Something like--

“Because they wanted me to be the one to kill Tedros.”

A pause. 

“It just came back to you?” said Hester. 

“I… think so.” Agatha screwed up her face. “It’s very vague. I was a guard, wasn’t I? Nicola was there.”

“I managed to convince Rhian to let me free someone, and I chose Nicola.” said Sophie. “I sent her on the mission with you, and let her get caught by Tedros and his allies, so he could find out what was going on.”

“Allies?”

“Ravenswood and Thicket Tumble declared allegiance to Tedros over Rhian.” Hester told her. “The remaining Knights of the Round Table and the Wardwell Clan of Netherwood, too. Bloodbrook did it secretly, and now Shazabah and Nottingham have come over, because Rhian imprisoned Reena, as the Sultan’s daughter, and Dot.”

“Oh. So what, Nicola told them everything? About Rhian? And me?”

“Yes. Teddy was  _ furious,  _ so I hear.” said Sophie, suddenly sly. “Went into an absolute paroxysm.”

“Yes, rage has always been in his limited range of emotions, that’s not new.” muttered Hester. “But they also captured Kei, and Kei told them something  _ very  _ interesting; that Rhian was lying about his parentage.”

“What d’you mean?”

“He’s not Arthur’s son. He’s Rafal and Evelyn Sader’s.”

Agatha blinked. 

“You just said he was Arthur’s.”

“No,  _ he  _ said he was Arthur’s, but it’s not true”

“Then how--”

“He genuinely  _ believes _ he’s Arthur’s.” said Sophie. “Japeth knew, but Rhian doesn’t. Japeth told Kei, to taunt him.”

“And does Rhian know now?”

“Getting to that. Anyway, um, after a  _ disagreement  _ with Japeth--”

“He threatened to kill you so I punched him in the face and cut him with my ring.” said Sophie, busily arranging Agatha’s mess of hair. 

“...ah. Um. Thanks.”

“Anytime, darling.”

“Yeah, that. Anyway, Sophie sent Tedros a message with Reaper--”

“Reaper?” Agatha looked down at the cat, now in her lap, who ignored the three of them. 

“Yeah. Anyway, it told him to crash the wedding and accuse Rhian of having an illegitimate claim, which he did. Rhian was furious, but as far as we know he still thinks he’s Arthur’s. So there was a huge fight at the wedding, because Tedros snuck a bunch of allies in. Ani, Dot and I killed the Mistral Sisters--”

“They… had power over me as well, right?”

“Yeah, that’s why we killed them.” said Hester, like it was obvious. “Japeth tried to set you and Tedros against each other, so Beatrix tackled you into the pews, which is why your hip is kind of weird now-- she says sorry. But you got free and Japeth’s plan sort of worked for about ten seconds before Sophie lost her shit and started screaming.”

“I destroyed every window in that chapel.” said Sophie proudly. 

“Sounds familiar.” mumbled Agatha. 

“Had to use it again at some point, didn’t I?”

“Yes, and we all had two-hour nosebleeds afterwards.” said Hester thinly. “Anyway, you tried to kill Tedros with a piece of glass because Japeth told you to. It didn’t work because Sophie dragged you off, so Japeth tried to do… something with the scims in your head and Tedros went absolutely beserk and killed him with a sword.”

“...he doesn’t have a sword.”

“He got a new one. Your priorities are interesting, Agatha.”

Agatha thought for a long time. 

“When the Snake died… it really hurt.”

“So you remember that.” mumbled Sophie. “Yes. We don’t really know what happened, but I guess the sudden release of influence over your mind must have done something, as did the dying scims.” 

“Tedros carried me out.”

“Yes. And then you got the scims out.”

“...right. Yeah.” Agatha remained silent for a while, trying to think everything through. “There was something… Japeth asked me…”

“Where you hid Tedros’s ring, yes.” huffed Sophie. “Because of their ridiculous obsession with symbolism and legitimacy, Rhian wanted to give it to me. They couldn’t find it, though.”

“It was in my shoe.”

“I know,  _ I _ found it. Then I forced you to wear those horrible clumps at the wedding, so you could escape with it.”

“Clever.”

“I am, darling.”

“Is that everything?” asked Agatha hopefully. She was starting to get a headache from the overload of information.

“Everything important.” said Hester, looking searchingly at her. “There’s going to be a meeting tomorrow, with pretty much everyone allied with Tedros arriving for it. Do you want to go? It’ll catch you up on everything else.”

“Yes.” said Agatha immediately, eager to be in the loop again. “Yeah, I’ll go.”

“They said that wasn’t a good idea.” pointed out Sophie. 

“Who cares?” said Hester. She turned back to Agatha. “Any questions?”

“Where’s Tedros?” said Agatha immediately. 

Hester grimaced. 

“Damn. Um--”

“They won’t let him see you in case you still have the  _ kill on sight  _ thing and try to attack him.” said Sophie dryly. “Clearly you don’t, but they’re being… prudent. They’ve caught him trying to sneak in at least three times, now.”

“Who’s  _ they?”  _ demanded Agatha.

“Dovey. Guinevere. The Never leaders. The boring old crones who have no business interfering nowadays.” said Sophie sniffily. 

Agatha frowned unhappily. 

“But--”   
“He’ll be at the meeting.” said Sophie. “I’ll run you a bath, you’re covered in dirt.”

“But Tedros--”

“Will probably find a way to sneak in anyway, let’s face it.” said Hester, flopping back onto the bed. “This is his room.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah, it’s one of the only rooms with both an intact ceiling and actual bed. This place is  _ ancient  _ and hasn’t had repairs in years.” snorted Hester. 

“So where’s he sleeping?”

Agatha anticipated the answer before it came;

“Don’t care.” 

* * *

Later, Agatha couldn’t sleep.

She’d been out for so long that she didn’t feel like it. She was weary, but not actually  _ tired _ . Her mind was too active, trying to sift through the deluge of information she’d been given today and only partially succeeding, given it kept returning to one thing. 

Tedros was a Never. 

What did that even  _ mean?  _ For him? For her? 

Agatha couldn’t help but wonder if there was another reason they’d been keeping him away from her. She remembered basically nothing from the wedding-- all she had was Hester and Sophie’s accounts, and a few fuzzy concepts. Was there a possibility he’d changed beyond all recognition? Were they trying to gauge her possible reactions before they presented her with her prince--

Well. Not exactly a Prince anymore. Not in the school sense. 

Thinking on it, it wasn’t unfathomable. Tedros had always been… testy, at best, and quite frequently either forgot or deliberately abandoned the Good rules. He was innately honourable, but his stint as School Master had always nagged at her, and that failed test in first year...

She was giving herself a headache again.

Groaning, Agatha put a pillow over her head, and was immediately smacked with the scent of mint. Frowning, she sat up abruptly, ignoring how it made her head spin, and flung it down the end of the bed. This was ridiculous. Never or not, letting everyone  _ but _ Tedros see her was never going to end well. And she  _ had  _ seen everyone-- a ridiculous parade of nosey classmates, nobles and allies had filtered through here today, to gawk at her and try and test her memory. Even Guinevere had been through. So had Dovey. Only Nicola had actually tried to discuss something other than the Snake and what being under his influence was like, and Agatha had been grateful for it. It was probably unfair to be annoyed at them for simple curiosity and concern, but--

The door creaked. Agatha dropped back down and pretended to be asleep as it swung open and candlelight filtered through.

A pause, as they presumably squinted at her. 

“Seems fine. Not flailing or muttering like she was, the other night.” 

Guinevere.

“Now she’s woken up properly, she’ll most likely be fine.”

Ravan?

Bizarre combination. Maybe they’d met in the corridor, or something. 

“I thought you said she was confused?” said Guinevere.

“She’s... distracted. Her train of thought seems muddled. I could see her getting confused by what people were telling her. She’ll probably get better.” 

“Clarissa called her  _ addled.” _

Ravan snorted. 

“Bit harsh.”

Agatha bit back a scowl, glad she was facing away from them. Were they absolutely incapable of leaving her alone? She wasn’t  _ addled! _

A pause. 

“Did you see Tedros on the way down here?” asked Guinevere.

“I did not.”

“I only ask because you’re his seneschal, now--”

“No, you ask because you think I’ll secretly let him in, since I was outvoted by everyone else on whether he should see Agatha or not.” said Ravan, a tad impatiently. “No, I didn’t see Tedros. Perhaps  _ you,  _ as his mother, should attempt to talk some sense into him.”

Seneschal? Oh. Made more sense that Guinevere and Ravan would have some kind of connection, if Ravan had got an actual position in Tedros’s court. 

Guinevere hesitated. 

“I would, but I… I don’t know. He seems off. A little cold. When he first came into the dungeons--”

“I don’t think courtesy or idle chatter was exactly a priority at the wedding.” said Ravan wryly. “As for now, perhaps he seems irritable because he’s the only person barred from seeing Agatha?”

Guinevere didn’t react to the jibe. 

“No, that’s not… I don’t know. Perhaps I’m just imagining things.”

Agatha thought Ravan sounded annoyed when he replied;

“Don’t project assumptions onto him, Guinevere. Tedros has been Evil since he was born, whether anyone knew it or not. His nature is  _ his,  _ not forced upon him by some mysterious Never force. Don’t get weird about it.”

The door clicked shut, and their voices began to fade. 

Agatha couldn’t help but wonder if Ravan had known she was awake, after all. Feeling bad for assuming the worst, she started to sit up--

From out in the hall, Guinevere changed the subject. 

“And her balance? Sophie said she fell over multiple times.” 

“Bad. Again, unsurprising, since the scims were put in through her ear, and, again, will probably fix itself.”

Their voices became inaudible and eventually faded completely.

Frowning, Agatha stared at the door. Her balance wasn’t  _ that  _ bad...

Suddenly lonely, she sat up and stared around. The stone chamber was mostly invisible in the pitch black, besides the faint gleam of the mirror on the opposite wall and a few slivers of moonlight coming through the ripped curtains. It was cold in here, as it probably was in most of the castle. It was mid-September, now. 

She drew her knees up to her chest and absently probed the bruises from earlier. She  _ had  _ fallen over a few times. Maybe five. Or something. But it was fine. She was fine. She was just tired. 

Not that she was, because she couldn’t sleep, but…

Frustrated, Agatha flung herself face-down into the pillows. She hadn’t noticed it earlier, probably because Sophie herself wore such strong perfume, but this entire stupid bed smelled like Tedros’s stupid cologne, because she was literally  _ in his bedroom,  _ but she wasn’t allowed to see him, because they might... fight? Or something. She didn’t care.

Agatha rolled onto her back again and put her hands over her face, glaring at nothing. She wished Ravan  _ would  _ let him in, or else he’d work out a way to get in himself. There were guards on either end of the corridor, since Sophie and the Coven were in the adjoining room, but he could probably do  _ something.  _ They were  _ engaged,  _ for god’s sake.

Intending to snap at a few people at tomorrow’s meeting, Agatha sat up-- 

They were engaged. 

It was September. It was meant to be next month.

Hah. Well, that probably wouldn’t be happening.

...she wanted her ring, though. No one had given it back to her, yet. 

Her shoes were over there. She could just...

Knowing it was a profoundly bad idea ( _ and _ knowing the actual number of times she’d fallen over today was probably more like eight or nine) Agatha flung the covers aside and swung her legs over the side of the bed, squinting into the corner where her clumps had been deposited. 

Tentatively, she put her feet down and hauled herself upright, trying to keep her vision level and leaning heavily against the wall--

Something creaked behind her and Agatha lurched forwards, sure it was Ravan and Guinevere back, not risking a glance behind in case it unbalanced her. It wasn’t  _ that  _ far, although it did feel it. Probably only three or four more steps--

She got within a few feet before her vision pitched entirely upside down. Panicked, Agatha tried to drop into a crouch, realised she was going sideways, went for something between a very strong expletive and a yelp--

Someone caught her inches from the floor.

“Have I ever told you,” said Tedros softly from somewhere nearby. “That for someone so clever, you have truly  _ dire _ survival skills?

“Piss off.” spluttered Agatha, vision still spinning. 

“Charming.”

Agatha had the vague impression that she was being pulled in some direction, but had no idea what that direction  _ was,  _ except that she was no longer on the floor. At all. 

“Have you picked me up?” asked Agatha indignantly, finding his arm across the crook of her knees and her back. “Tedros, I  _ can _ walk-- _ ” _

“For about three steps, maybe.”

“If I could work out where your head was, I would hit you.”

“Sucks that you can’t, I guess.” said Tedros cheekily. 

Agatha’s back hit the mattress and she attempted to roll over, muttering curses, before Tedros’s knee got in the way and stopped her. 

“Nope, wrong way. Can you see at all?”

“I  _ could  _ before you started throwing me about!”

“Oh, so it’s  _ all  _ my fault, I see. Yes, that makes sense.”

For a second, Agatha was worried she’d genuinely annoyed him--

But then his face came into focus, just to the left of her, wearing the distinctive flat-mouthed expression which signified he was having far too much fun winding her up and pretending it wasn’t funny, and she sighed. 

“How did I ever think you were Good?”

Tedros pretended not to hear her.

“Move up, this is still my bed.” he told her, prodding her in the good hip with his foot. 

“It’s not that hard to just walk around.” muttered Agatha, covering her eyes to try and get her vision to refocus properly. To his credit, she did hear him move away, sliding in his socks to the other side.

There was a pause. Agatha tried to gauge whether they’d woken anyone up, but she didn’t think they had. She wished she could see Tedros better. He looked exactly the same, as far as she could tell, but maybe he’d grown his hair out a little bit. She’d wondered if he’d adopt an entirely new look, but she wasn’t sure where the idea had come from. Maybe black and gold, like… like at-- had she seen him at the wedding? When he’d snuck in? Speaking of sneaking in--

“How did you get in?” she asked vaguely, bashing her bad ear with the palm of her hand in the vague hope that might help. Tedros grabbed her arm and pulled it away. 

“What are you doing? That’s not going to help. Aren’t you a doctor’s daughter?”

“My mother didn’t deal with magic possessing eels.” snapped Agatha. 

“...true. But it definitely won’t work.” said Tedros. “Just lie down for a minute, it’ll pass.”

“I  _ am.”  _

“Ooh, aren’t you in a good mood tonight? Which one of us is the Never, hmm?”

Agatha paused. 

“...sorry. Shouldn’t be so snide with you.”

“It’s alright.” Agatha felt Tedros shift to lean over her. “Heard you had the entire population of the castle come to gawk at you, today.”

“Felt that way. Didn’t even know half of them. Bunch of black robed gits coming to shake my hand and say lots of unintelligible things.”

“Those are my allies.” snorted Tedros.

“Feel bad for you.”

_ “Agatha.”  _ hissed Tedros, but she could hear the mirth in his voice. “You can’t say that at the meeting tomorrow.” 

“Why not? It appears Dovey’s been going around telling people I’m  _ addled.  _ If they think I’m nuts, I can say what I want.”

She must have sounded more bitter than she’d intended to, because Tedros paused for a second, then dropped his face into the crook of her neck and shoulder.

“Is this your way of telling me she’s right?” sighed Agatha, putting her arms around his neck. “I know I’m a bit weird.”

“You could be convinced you were the Ooty Queen and I wouldn’t mind.” said Tedros. “But I think  _ addled  _ is mean. You’re a bit… inattentive. I tried to tell you how I got in, and you just didn’t hear me, and just asked again.”

Agatha opened her eyes finally, frowning.

“Oh. Sorry. I was trying to remember what you wore at the wedding.”

“What?”

“How  _ did  _ you get in?”

“I… uh, I climbed up onto the balcony and picked the lock on the doors, by which time you had your back to me on your little quest across the room. Can we go back to that thing you just said--?”

“Isn’t that really dangerous?” said Agatha. 

“Did you just say you remembered the wedding?” pressed Tedros.

“You totally could have fallen off and died.”

“Yes, maybe, but I didn’t, can you  _ please _ tell me how the  _ hell  _ you remember the wedding? Everyone said you didn’t remember  _ anything-- _ ”

“I think I got blood on your outfit.” remembered Agatha suddenly. “Sorry. It was nice. You looked handsome.”

Tedros stared incredulously at her. 

“Did they put you on some kind of medication?”

“No.” frowned Agatha. “I don’t know. I just remembered. I think I was conscious for a bit.”

“Just about, but--”

“Did it have a chest slit?”

A pause. They stared at one another.

Then Tedros choked on air and started laughing. 

“Shut up, someone will hear you!” hissed Agatha, sitting up and trying to cover his mouth. “Why are you laughing?”

Tedros pried her hands off his mouth, eyes still bright with mirth, shoulders trembling. 

“Who are you, Sophie? Your filter is  _ completely  _ gone, you’d never normally say anything like that--”

“I just remembered it!”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, I was just sort of thinking about whether you were going to get a new look or something now you’re a Never, and then I remembered it--”

A noise echoed from down the corridor and Tedros clamped his hand over her mouth, flattening both of them against the mattress. Agatha waited for a second, straining to hear if anyone was approaching, but it didn’t sound as if anyone was. 

They were silent for a few seconds. Then Tedros snorted, and pressed a careful kiss to her jaw. 

“You’re funny. Please say something like that tomorrow, whether or not you feel inclined to, Hester will implode.”

Agatha snorted, but Tedros’s mirth faded.

“The other Nevers...” he paused, shifting nervously next to her. “Actually… we haven’t talked about this.”

Agatha saw his jaw jump in the telltale indication of nerves, and he drew back from her abruptly. 

“I-- listen, I’ll understand if you’re not really interested in… well, staying with me… I guess... mean, you’re properly Good, and I know it’s probably… weird… and I’m not exactly what you signed up for anymore. But, um, I haven’t… I’d still want to… um-- what?”

He stopped at the look on her face.

“You’re saying this to  _ me.”  _ said Agatha. “ _ Me?” _

“I-- yeah?”

“You remember the entire plot of my fairy tale?”

“I-- oh.” Tedros reddened. “I mean, that was Sophie, that was different… different circumstances--”

“How?” asked Agatha. 

Tedros opened his mouth... and shut it again without saying anything. 

“You’re… not marrying Sophie?”

“Astute.” said Agatha dryly. “I’m marrying  _ you _ . Stop agonizing over this, the second I realised you weren’t acting any differently, I didn’t care.”

“I’m not quite…” To her surprise, Tedros’s face tightened. “I… when I heard…”

Something that Sophie had said earlier surfaced.

_ Teddy was furious, so I hear. Went into an absolute paroxysm. _

“You killed Japeth.” said Agatha, the concept finally sinking in. 

Tedros’s expression blackened. 

“Yes. I told him I would. I told everyone I would, and no one believed me.” he looked at her. “They should have.”

Agatha fidgeted uncomfortably. 

“You could have done it last time.”

“No.” said Tedros firmly. “You were right. I couldn’t have. I was trying to prove to everyone that I was worthy of my father’s legacy. That was it. He would have killed me if Rhian hadn’t intervened. But this time… they assumed that controlling you would keep me and Sophie in line. Too bad they forgot they gave me permission to go about getting you back via any means necessary.”

Agatha stared at him.

“I ran him through and took his head off.” said Tedros savagely. “Sophie weakened him and dragged you off, the Coven killed the Mistrals, and I killed  _ him.” _

“Yeah.” Agatha said. She sighed, suddenly weary. “Good.” 

She shifted over to put her head on Tedros’s shoulder. Tedros’s hand went to her good hip.

“That’s all you’ve got to say?”

Agatha shrugged, too tired to think about it any deeper. 

“Yeah. Fuck him. I wouldn’t have wanted him to do it to anyone else. Trying to resist him… it was practically impossible.” 

“I’m sorry I left you.” mumbled Tedros, fiddling with her hair. “I could have found you, but I didn’t think--”

“You’d have been killed if you’d tried.” said Agatha, getting fed up with his angsting and moving her head to his chest instead. 

Tedros was quiet for a moment. 

“I heard you shouting.” Agatha said. “Outside. When I did that spell.”

“Yeah.” Tedros exhaled. “I was. Bastards wouldn’t let me see you.”

“‘s okay. ’m fine.” Agatha said vaguely. “You came and got me. Knew you would.” 

“Did you?” 

“Yeah. Couldn’t get myself out, so I knew you’d come for me instead.”

“I could have been killed by Japeth in the process.”

“No, you wouldn’t have.” said Agatha.

“...No.” said Tedros. “You’re right.” He paused. “He should have had a worse death. I should have dragged him behind my horse, or something.”

“Did you bring me his head?” said Agatha.

“No. Sorry.”

Agatha sniffed disdainfully. 

“What kind of a Never are you? You should have. We could have had it as a centerpiece.” 

She opened her eyes and caught the look on his face.

She cackled. Tedros looked unimpressed. 

“You’re morbid.”

“Aw, but you love me.”

“Yes.” Tedros leaned over and kissed her temple. “I do.”

Agatha caught his jaw and pulled him in for a real kiss. Tedros slid his hand to the back of her neck and kissed her harder. Agatha basked in it for a second--

Then remembered something. 

“Can you get me my ring?” she said, pulling back. “I was going to get it.”

“Yes, I thought you were,” sighed Tedros, rifling in his pocket. “So I took the liberty of getting it for you, so you wouldn’t smash your skull on the floor when you next attempted it.”

“Oh!” Agatha propped herself up on his chest. “Thank you--” 

Tedros held it out of her reach.

“Shall we do it properly this time? Shall I get down on one knee?”

“Don’t bother, I’d probably drop it or fall off the bed or something.” said Agatha. “Accept we’re both going to mess it up no matter how many times we try, and move on.”

“Oddly wise.” said Tedros. “Give me your hand, then--”

Agatha let him put it on her hand again, thinking that maybe he did look a little different-- slightly sharper in the face, and his hair was a little longer, curling slightly looser, almost to his jaw--

“What?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re looking at me funny.”

Agatha considered telling him he was handsome again, thought his ego would become so big it would be unsalvageable, and settled for kissing him again, instead. 

Immediately, Tedros grinned and caught her carefully around the waist, trying to avoid her fractured ribs. Agatha, who was  _ ignoring  _ her fractured ribs, pulled him flush against her, ignoring his disapproving sound--

Tedros pushed her gently down onto the mattress to stop her and kissed her harder, forearms braced on either side of her head, Agatha’s hand slid up the plane of his back, the other pressed to his chest--

“Guess the worries that you two would end up fighting were unfounded, hmm?”

Tedros said something very rude. Agatha groaned, knowing she’d been right to think there’d been a noise in the corridor. 

“I,” Tedros said slowly. “Have had nightmares  _ exactly _ like this before.”

“Good to know you never did quite forget about me.” Sophie closed the door with a snap and swished over. “Move up.”

“ _ Excuse  _ me?” said Tedros indignantly, sitting up and staring incredulously at Sophie. Agatha, stuck between wanting to laugh and wanting to tell Sophie to get lost, sighed and prepared to diffuse an argument. 

“I wanted to check on Aggie, and I wanted to discuss something with you out of earshot of everyone else. Move.”

Muttering expletives, Tedros shifted to sit on Agatha’s left, whilst Sophie took her right. 

“People are already arriving for that damned meeting. Ginnymill representatives. It’s two in the morning. Bastards. It’s how I knew you weren’t where you were supposed to be, Teddy, because they asked if I knew where you were. I  _ very _ generously lied and said you went for a swim, because I thought it might be healthy for Agatha to have a rendezvous with a relatively handsome boy--”

“What’s your point?” sighed Tedros as Agatha snorted.

“I wanted to discuss strategy for the meeting.”

“ _ Now _ ?” asked Tedros suspiciously. 

“Well, I actually wanted to feed Aggie a bunch of things to say while she still seems out of it, so she can get away with saying them, but yes, seeing as you’re here.”

Agatha ignored the first part of it, punching her pillow into shape. 

“I’ll see how I feel in the morning.”

“You can’t go to sleep after I’ve just arrived!” hissed Sophie.

“I should be so damn lucky. Haven’t slept the whole night. Being out for-- actually, how long was I out for?”

“Four days.” said Tedros promptly.

“Four days during which you did nothing but angst and argue with your mother.” sniffed Sophie.

“My mother is being… odd.” muttered Tedros, plucking at his shirt nervously. “I don’t think she knows how to take it.”

That lined up with what Agatha had heard earlier, but she couldn’t muster the energy to say so. 

“Everyone else seems baffled, but your mother is… apprehensive, maybe.” said Sophie. “Maybe she thinks it’s her fault.”

“Partially, it is.” pointed out Tedros. “But it’s not as if I’m going to turn around and accuse her of ruining my claim to the throne, since I still have one and Rhian definitely  _ doesn’t.”  _

“But everyone thinks he does.” said Sophie heavily. 

* * *

Agatha must have fallen asleep at some point, because when she woke, there was more light, and someone had covered her with a blanket. Her cheek was pressed against Tedros’s shoulder, Sophie was sitting on her other side, and they were talking about something completely different. 

“He never could quite make her forget about you. She came off her horse because her consciousness overrode the scims, and then she suddenly started paying attention when you and weddings were mentioned in the same sentence.”

Tedros didn’t reply. His hand was resting lightly on Agatha’s back. 

“Hear you punched him.” he said finally. 

“Oh, yes.” said Sophie. “Carved out a huge chunk of his cheek with the diamond on my ring. But I liked your style much better.”

She paused for a moment.

“I denied it for so long. You accepted it much faster.”

“I smashed a bunch of carvings of my father and tore up my hands clawing at them.” muttered Tedros. “But yes, after that, I suppose I did. I don’t think, in my heart of hearts, I was really surprised.”

“No,” murmured Sophie. “You’ve always been a bit volatile.”

“Oh, ha ha.” Tedros paused. “I was raging, though. When I found out what he’d done.”

“So Ravan told me. And I saw the letter you sent Rhian. _FOR EVERYTHING ELSE, YOU WILL BE SORRY. BUT FOR AGATHA, YOU WILL DIE._ My, my. And the crushed scim? Lovely touch. Menacing.”

Agatha, only half-awake, found herself slightly surprised. Tedros hadn’t mentioned that.

“Thank you for the review.” groused Tedros. 

“Oh, you’re welcome.” Sophie paused. “So, you’re rejecting Arthur?”

“What’s he ever done for me?” snapped Tedros, sounding surprisingly venomous. “Barely a father, let alone a good one. Wrote a bunch of conspiracy theories about me, even though he  _ definitely  _ should have seen it coming from the second he married my mother, didn’t think to actually  _ tell _ me of his suspicions, bribed everyone to cover it up, then drank himself to death and slapped me, a Never, on the throne of the greatest Good kingdom.” he paused. “There’s a coronation portrait of me, painted by August Sader. Looks nothing like I did on my coronation day. He must have known, and lied to my father with the painting.”

“If he’d been telling the truth, he’d have aged, and the only person he ever told anything to was Rafal.” said Sophie. “Your father must have known that.”

“Deluding himself.” muttered Tedros. “Always thought he could defy things, even the most powerful magic in the Woods, simply because he had Excalibur, which--”

He froze. 

“What?” said Sophie. 

“I… um, nothing. Just need to check something.” he shook his head. “God. My father. I clung to him, I suppose, because I must have known deep down that being an Ever on my own merit wasn’t good enough. After my mother ran off with Lancelot, people must have gotten suspicious. I think Father sent me to Good with Excalibur to try and prove it to everyone. Didn’t work, obviously.”

“It always would have backfired.” sighed Sophie. “Eventually. Maybe someone would have found the letters, or someone would have lost their nerve and spilled, or you might have had a Never child--”

“I hadn’t even considered that.” said Tedros. “That might happen.”

“I suppose it might, yes.” mused Sophie. Her voice brightened. “Oh, you should send them to me, at Evil! A little protege! Have a daughter, do, I can train her up--”

“We are  _ not _ talking about this now. There is still a high possibility we might all die.”

“Just being prudent, darling.”

“I didn’t even know you still  _ wanted  _ to be Dean.”

Sophie huffed. 

“I thought I didn’t. But when I was playing the role of Rhian’s Queen... I just felt like an imposter. I was in Aggie’s room, with all her things, wearing her crown and her jewellery, whilst she was right there. And every time I did something, I just thought about how Agatha would have done it better.”

Agatha found herself bewildered. Sophie thought  _ she  _ would have done better? She’d spent six months making herself a laughingstock. Had she not read the  _ Rot? _

“I don’t think Agatha would have done a better job of wedding planning.” said Tedros. 

“Oh,  _ Teddy _ , you know what I mean.” 

“Yeah, I do.”

_ Agatha _ sure as hell didn’t.

“She might be a bit… er, _gauche_ ,” said Sophie, “But the people like her. Everyone had a fun story about her that they were just _dying_ to tell me, the imposter Queen. It was fair enough, really.”

“Good.” mumbled Tedros. “They’ll need to, else they’ll never accept me back.”

“Yes, she and I are quite important really, aren’t we?” sniffed Sophie. “You boys can whale on one another with swords all day, but if you haven’t got a Queen to consolidate your power, you’re going to look an absolute tit, aren’t you?”

“Wise words, Sophie.” snorted Tedros. 

“Oh, I try, darling.” 

After a while, Tedros spoke again;

“I have no idea what I’m doing.” he admitted, suddenly. “I don’t know how to command all these people, Good  _ or  _ Evil. I think people have a little more respect for me now that I killed Japeth, but…”

“If I may be so bold to give you a genuine compliment, Teddy, you’ve become rather imposing when it comes to negotiations and politics as of late. Could be the double swords, could be the sexy doublets--”

“What is it with the two of you and my outfits?” demanded Tedros.

“Oh, did Aggie comment on the chest slit? Good. Also, shut up, I’m not done, because as I was  _ saying,  _ you’ve got the whole act down very nicely. You look just slightly on the wrong side of unhinged. You’re lovely now, but I can guarantee you’re going to sit with your legs off the armrest of that weird throne, threaten anyone who looks at Aggie funny, and call some random dignitary an  _ imbecile _ .”

“So I’m like you?”

“That’s why it’s a compliment, Teddy.” sighed Sophie. “Also, this doesn’t leave this room. Ever. At all.”

“If we’re going to be siblings, we’re going to need to appear to get along at  _ some  _ point.”

“On the contrary, darling, we need to never get along ever again and try to assassinate each other as often as possible. Also, we are siblings by law  _ only.  _ None of this puerile sentimental nonsense.”

“I’m so glad I didn’t choose you.” muttered Tedros.

“If I  _ had  _ to choose a man-- which frankly, I would rather prefer not to, I am beginning to realise-- I actually think you would be the best choice, which is not really saying anything considering the others are Rhian, Rafal and Hort, but there you are. You threatened to kill me twice, which should put you one instance below Hort, but you haven’t incessantly stalked me for years and I think you would rather die than be stuck in a coffin with me.”

“Can confirm. I’d have to  _ be  _ dead to be in a coffin with you, and even then someone would have ignored the emphatic line in my will saying  _ do not bury me with Sophie what the hell what about my wife. _ ” Tedros paused. “Wait,  _ Hort _ threatened to kill you?”

“Oh, you’re not going to be _believe_ what he said, it was last year--”

* * *

They met in the King of Ravenswood’s command tent, since it was hammering it down with rain and all of the meeting rooms inside the actual castle leaked. Sophie and Dot half dragged, half carried Agatha across the slippery courtyard, having been unable to convince her to give up the idea of attending the meeting, despite Agatha’s balance still being distinctly dubious and her hip still aching. 

The second they ducked inside, though, Agatha sort of wished she had, because everyone inside the dim tent turned to stare at her. 

Reddening, she let Sophie haul her along, focusing on her feet and not falling over, rather than the fact that the last time these people had seen her, she’d been bleeding and incoherent on a chapel floor. 

Tedros was sprawled on a divan at the other end of the tent, sharpening one of his swords with a whetstone and ignoring everyone who tried to catch his eye. Once he noticed them approaching, however, he sat up properly, and resheathed the blade, taking Agatha’s hand and indicating she should sit with him. 

Agatha managed it without falling over, much to her relief-- then heard someone gulp from the back of the tent, and looked over to find the Queen of Jaunt Jolie, the King of Foxwood, and the Maharani of Mahadeva all staring guiltily over at her.

Confused, she glanced at Sophie, who had flung herself down on the furs at Agatha’s feet, and was glaring back at them. 

“What’s with them?” she whispered.

“They were at a dinner with Rhian when you and I were there.” sneered Sophie. “He got them to agree I was the true Queen, in front of you. They think you remember it.” 

“Pretend you do.” muttered Tedros. “I’d love to see the King of Foxwood look like a kicked puppy for a bit longer. Keeps him away from bowing and scraping and sucking up.”

“...right.” frowned Agatha. “Um. Okay.”

Tedros raised his voice. 

“Shall we begin?”

Agatha was bored almost immediately, and, looking around, so was everyone else. Hester was playing with one of Anadil’s rats, Anadil was dozing, and Dot was supplying Agatha with snacks-- everything from olives to biscuits to chocolate. She seemed to have raided the kitchens. Nicola, Beatrix and Sophie were playing hangman, and said man was coming to look more and more like Rhian. The Maharani of Mahadeva was blathering on about the economic impact of Camelot Beautiful on the economy, and Tedros was looking increasingly irritated.

“Dot,” whispered Agatha. “Where’s everyone else--?”

Tedros heard her. 

“Good question,” he said suddenly, cutting off the Maharani mid-spiel. “I’ll hear about all the economic problems that my father has so kindly deposited in my lap some other time, your grace. When we’re in less mortal peril, perhaps. For now, I’d like to bring everyone up to speed with the state of things.”

The Maharani looked peeved, but someone pulled on her sleeve and she sat back down in her chair with a bump. 

“First,” said Tedros. “I have appointed Beatrix Rotunda as my new liege.”

_ That  _ woke Agatha up.

“Oh, really? Good.”

“Rena Rotunda’s girl?” Jacinda of Jaunt Jolie stood up to get a better look. “Why?”

“Why not?” grinned Beatrix, leaning over to take some of Agatha’s olives. “I was trained in swordplay and archery at Girl, and have a good grasp of magic from New Evil and Good, and I was close enough with Chaddick to be able to both know and honour the goals he was unable to complete. Also, it’s wildly unlikely that I’ll betray anyone, or have an affair with Agatha. No offence.”

“I’m an acquired taste.” said Agatha, picking at the fur on her cloak. Tedros frowned. 

“Um… anyway, yes, there’s that. I’ve also chosen Ravan Chakravorti as my seneschal.”

Mahati of Thicket Tumble looked smug, which made sense. Having a high-ranking noble from her kingdom in Tedros’s court would be vastly beneficial for her, no doubt. Still, if she was hoping to use Ravan to control Tedros, she’d underestimated both of them.

“Everyone who remains here has already had a role to play, or will have one in the future. Most of the students from the School for Good and Evil have returned to the school with Clarissa Dovey, besides the ones you see here. Princess Reena has returned with her father to Shazabah.”

Agatha did a headcount-- herself, Tedros, Sophie, The Coven, Nicola, Beatrix and Ravan. Naturally, she and Tedros weren’t able to go back to the school, still technically on their quest as they were. The Coven had killed the Mistral Sisters, and were probably practically impossible to send away if they didn’t want to go anyway. Sophie and Nicola had invaluable knowledge about Rhian and his methods, and Beatrix and Ravan were now in Tedros’s court. Agatha herself...

“--would it not have been more prudent to have sent the lady with the rest of the students back to Good?” 

Agatha’s eyes swung to where a gaggle of middle aged men were sitting on the other side of the table. They were all staring at her. 

Did they mean her?

“No.” said Tedros shortly. “I need Agatha here.”

“For what, boy? Look at her. Been lucid for a day, doesn’t even have basic balance, and you’re trying to get her to interact in strategy meetings. Your father never pressured Guinevere into going.”

Guinevere, sitting with them, frowned. 

“I was never really interested, Kay. I think Agatha asked to come--”

“Agatha asked to come.” repeated Tedros. The men peered doubtfully at her. 

“Well, I think you should have sent her back to Good.” began another. “Would have been safer than putting her under unnecessary stress by keeping her here.”

Several people muttered in agreement. Tedros reddened, irritated. 

“This isn’t the dragon fighting and maiden rescuing of your youth.” said Ravan dryly. “You should probably learn now that it’s nigh impossible for anyone to convince Agatha of anything.”

“Not if you’re Japeth.” muttered the King of Foxwood. 

“Shut your mouth.” snapped Tedros. The King drew breath indignantly--

Agatha, who was being reminded of the Gavaldon Elders more and more by the minute, finally got fed up. 

“Sorry, who  _ are _ you?” she interrupted, pointing a breadstick at the group of men. “Should I know who you all are or something?”

A pause. Then several people giggled, and the first man went red.

“Lady, we are--”

“Aggie, they’re Arthur’s knights. The remaining Knights of the Round Table.” said Sophie, clearly biting back a grin.

“Oh.” Agatha frowned, snapping her breadstick in half. “I thought they were all either dead or senile, nowadays.” she bit a portion off it, chewing deliberately loudly. “What’re you doing here, then?”

Hester was laughing blatantly. One of them jumped in;

“We offered our swords to Arthur’s son, out of our lifelong duty to Camelot’s throne--”

“Could you not have been six months earlier?”

“...your pardon, lady?”

Agatha blinked.

“Where were you when Tedros’s coronation went wrong? If you’re still all willing to help him, why didn’t you come back then?”

An awkward silence fell on the knights. Agatha finished the rest of her breadstick and went for another. Several of the knights kept looking at Tedros, as if expecting him to stop her. Tedros was hiding his face behind his notes, but Agatha could see him laughing behind them--

Eris guffawed. 

“I warned you! I told you about her mother, and you still assumed she was going to be the same as Guinevere and Elaine and Igraine, didn’t you? God, I’d have  _ loved _ to hear what Callis would have had to say about all of this--”

Agatha glanced at Tedros and cackled with sudden glee, thinking of what Callis _would_ have said, now that her daughter’s fiancé was Evil _and_ hot, even more so than he had been before--

Everyone turned to stare at her. She clamped her mouth shut, feeling she’d mistepped somehow. Perhaps they’d said something and she’d missed it. 

“Sorry, I was just... er, continue.”

She furtively rootled around in the bag of cookies Dot had given her, looking for a distraction.

“You’ve already had five of those.” said Sophie, trying to pull it out of her lap.

“I haven’t!” 

“You have, you were completely zoned out--”

“Shall we continue?” asked Tedros, mouth still twitching with mirth. “Regardless of your opinions, gentlemen, I am not intending on sending Agatha back to Good.”

“I wouldn’t go.”

“Yes, I guessed as much. Also, I need you to help legitimise my claim.”

“Aren’t I already doing that?” Agatha waved her left hand vaguely in his direction. Tedros smiled. 

“Yes. But I need your opinion on… something else.”

“Huh?”

“Later. For now, I’d like to know what I’m up against. Sophie, Nicola, if you’d like to talk to us about Rhian?”

* * *

“...King Rhian?” said a reporter.

Rhian jerked back to the present.

Gripping the lectern with bloodied fingers, he stared out at the sea of reporters in front of him and took a breath. The weariness on his face was not something he was having to fake. 

“Though I had some modicum of influence over him, as his brother, I chose to use that to attempt to defend other Kingdoms. I know now that was a short-sighted decision. I never could have convinced him to turn away from everyone.”

The reporters muttered and scribbled. Someone else put their hand up. 

“Yes?”

“ _ Ravenbow Reporter _ , sire. There are currently accusations being levelled towards you that you and the Snake conspired to fake the Snake’s death together, both to undermine Tedros and so that you could later stage a coup. How do you respond to these?”

Well, here he could tell the truth.

“He made me promise that we would fake it, yes. But when it came down to it… I legitimately tried to kill him.” 

Saying it out loud was enough to make his skin crawl. Rhian nearly glanced over his shoulder, half-expecting a wave of scims to come shooting towards him at any second. 

(They wouldn’t, because he was dead.)

(Japeth was dead.)

“It goes without saying that I failed, and was forced to continue with the plan as it was. I should have known better than to assume he was dead the first time. He was too powerful for me to overpower, let alone kill.” 

More mutters. The members of the Kingdom Council exchanged nervous glances. 

“I have a question, sire, Jaunt Jolie Journal-- did you know the Snake was controlling Princess-- ah, your pardon, how he was controlling Agatha of Woods Beyond?” 

An unprecedented coil of guilt flexed in Rhian’s chest. Controlling Agatha to keep Sophie in line had been one of his ideas, but he hadn’t meant it  _ literally  _ until Japeth had taken it literally, and he’d begun to regret it from the second it had started. He’d not been able to watch Tedros carry her out. He just hoped she hadn’t been permanently injured. 

“I confess that I did, but I didn’t know how to stop it without seriously injuring or killing Agatha, something that I wasn’t prepared to do, given she was to be my sister in law, and I have no quarrel with her.”

“And Sophie?”

“Taken by Tedros’s camp, no doubt went mostly willingly out of fear for her sister. I understand that, naturally, but I fear for her wellbeing and hope that she will be safely returned to me.”

In truth, Rhian found it unlikely that Sophie would  _ willingly _ return to him, but perhaps…

He shook the thought off as the next question came in.

“Earlier, you mentioned having a plan with your brother. What was said _plan,_ if you please, sire?”

Rhian paused, calculating furiously. He’d have to omit things, change the perspective…

Of course, if he did it like this, he knew who would end up looking good. 

Not  _ Good _ . He’d seen to that. But good. Too good.

He glanced at Kei, stood stoically to his right, who didn’t return the look. 

“Japeth-- The Snake-- believed in the myth of the One True King.” he said. “I had always been proud of my heritage, my link to Arthur, and I believed that I would be a good King, if only I had the chance. Japeth gave me a chance, but he had his… own motives. I was desperate to prove myself a good King, so I went blindly along with it, not expecting it to get so messy. I was a fool. Japeth wanted to install me on the throne, use me to convince the Kingdom Council to burn their Storian Rings, and then…” he swallowed. “I realised too late that he was planning to kill and replace me. He was my twin, he could have passed for me easily enough. But there was nothing I could do to stop him. I cannot use magic like he could. I tried to keep him on my good side, so he would maybe question his plan, but… I have no way of knowing if it would have worked. Most likely, had he lived, I would not have lasted beyond a year.”

The reporters scribbled, the Kingdom Council gawked, and  _ then _ ;

“So, surely, you owe Tedros a great debt.”

Rhian lowered his eyes to a ginger girl in the front row, lollipop wedged firmly in her left cheek. It was an odd sight at such a sombre event. 

“I beg your pardon?”

“Tedros.” Repeated the girl, as if he was slow. “He killed Japeth and rid the Woods of the biggest threat it has faced in decades. How can you continue to paint him as a threat to Camelot when  _ you  _ were the one working in league with the Snake?”

Rhian didn’t answer right away, trying to think of a way to spin it, to make Tedros look like the villain here… but everyone had been there to see Japeth die, and now everyone had heard Rhian say he was working with Japeth, and…

“I am grateful to Tedros.” he said, finally. “He did what I could not. And I know that I was wrong, and weak, to put both myself and Camelot at the mercy of my brother. For that, I am deeply sorry. I was blinded by my fear of my brother, and what he has done in the past.”

He lowered his head to expose the white scar on his skull. Technically inflicted by Aric, but caused and enabled by Japeth, for which he’d never been in the least bit sorry. Nor had he been sympathetic, or worried, or…

How odd it felt, to tell the truth for once. 

Rhian shook off the thought and continued.

“But regardless of everything,  _ I  _ am Arthur’s true heir, not Tedros. I am the elder son, and illegitimate as I may be, he is made  _ wildly _ more so by the fact that a Never cannot take the throne of an Ever kingdom. And while I’m sure he did what he could with a destitute kingdom, Tedros’s nature curbed his ability to properly serve his people. I may be a bastard son, but his legitimacy resulted in an Evil nature. So, you must decide which you favour more; his legitimacy, or my dedication to serving Camelot?”

A tense silence fell across the hall. 

“Actually,” said the Empress of Putsi, rising from the members of the Kingdom Council that remained with Rhian. “We have a proposal regarding this.”

Rhian’s eyes narrowed.

“What kind of proposal?”

**THE KINGDOM COUNCIL**

**OF THE ENDLESS WOODS**

(ON BEHALF OF THE LATE KING ARTHUR OF CAMELOT)

DOES OFFICIALLY PROPOSE

**_THE TRIAL OF KINGS_ **

**_TO DETERMINE THE RIGHTFUL HEIR TO CAMELOT’S THRONE_ **

THE TWO CLAIMANTS,   
**_PRINCE TEDROS PENDRAGON OF CAMELOT_ **

AND

**_RHIAN SADER OF FOXWOOD_ **

WILL COMPETE TO ASSERT THEIR SUITABILITY AS KING OF CAMELOT 

IN A SERIES OF THREE TASKS

**TASK THE FIRST:**

_ STRENGTH _

TO FIGHT FOR THE KINGDOM

**TASK THE SECOND:**

_ INTELLIGENCE _

TO MAKE DECISIONS ON BEHALF OF THE KINGDOM

**TASK THE THIRD:**

_ HONOUR _

TO BE TRUSTED BY THE KINGDOM

**THE VICTOR WILL BE HAILED AS THE KING**

THE LOSER MUST HONOURABLY SURRENDER THEIR CLAIM

OR FACE THE JUDGEMENT OF THE WINNER

WHATEVER THAT MAY BE

GLORY BE TO THE VICTOR

“Teddy has got some kind of plan forming.” said Sophie, later. “He won’t tell us what it is.”

The three Readers had retreated to Tintagel’s dusty, spider-infested library after the summons to the Trial of Kings had arrived, hoping to find some sort of clue as to what the tasks might entail. So far, they’d had very little luck. Nothing like this had ever happened before-- not in Camelot, and not in any other country to boot.

“He didn’t even tell Agatha?” frowned Nicola. Agatha, dozing over a book at the other end of the table, jerked up at the mention of her name.

“What?”

“Tedros’s suspicious secret plan.”

“Oh.” Agatha frowned. “No, he just said it was to legitimise him, and he wanted my help with it or… something.”

“I think  _ help  _ might be pushing it.” sniffed Sophie. “More likely he’s just going to take you with him because he doesn’t want to leave you back here. Or he thinks it will require a modicum of brainpower that he doesn’t possess.”

“He’s not my mother.” muttered Agatha, who’d started to wish that everyone would stop treading on eggshells around her. 

“I was banking on his abandonment issues rather than his mollycoddling, actually.” said Sophie. 

Agatha snorted and went back to her book, half-heartedly skimming some spindly writing, slipping in and out of focus. 

At the news that the trial was to be attended by a huge crowd, and shown to the rest of the Woods by Spellcast, Tedros had sneered--  _ “What is this, a harvest festival? Will they have us joust?” _ \-- but Agatha had seen the tension in his face. Besides the fact that he’d made something of a trend of being humiliated in front of crowds, they knew full well that Rhian would do everything in his power to play to the people. The Kingdom Council’s decisions would be final, and no doubt they’d be swayed by public opinion, so unless Tedros could somehow win their favour over Rhian...

She sighed deeply and flipped a page. 

_ A cloud-white crown of pearl she dight,  _

_ All raimented in snowy-white  _

_ That loosely flew (her zone in sight _

_ Clasp’d with one blinding diamond bright) _

“I suppose Tedros couldn’t pull Excalibur because it’s Good’s holy sword.” she mused, mostly to herself. “I guess he never tried until the coronation. I could do it. I took it out of Mr Deauville’s anvil.”

Sophie shot her a look. 

“Do you want to go and lie down? You’re getting odd again.”

“No, I pulled it.” insisted Agatha, suddenly much more awake. “I’d forgotten until now. Rafal hid it in Sader’s painting of Gavaldon, in the anvil. I pulled it out. Rafal even said he thought it recognised friends from foes… it must only respond to Evers!”

Nicola paused from atop a ladder, face pinched in thought. 

“Interesting. You’re as Good as it gets, so that would make sense. Still, that would mean it doesn’t actually…”

She trailed off. 

“What?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Nicola turned back to the shelf. “Let me check something, first.”

“How can  _ Rhian _ be Good?” snorted Sophie as Nicola started to rifle through shelves. “With parents like his?”

“You, me  _ and  _ Tedros are prime examples of why that argument doesn’t really work.” said Agatha. “Maybe Japeth took up all the Evil.”

“I don’t think  _ that’s _ how it works, Aggie.”

Agatha shrugged and looked back at her book. 

“Wish Teddy would stop being a tit and tell us his plan.” said Sophie gloomily. “Better have something good if he wants to beat Rhian.”

“Depends what Rhian’s doing.” said Agatha vaguely, trying to find her place in the passage. “Maybe he’s lost his nerve and has a really shitty plan.”

_ Her wide eyes fix’d on Camelot, _

_ Though the squally east wind keenly _

_ Blew, with folded arms serenely _

_ By the water stood the queenly _

_ Lady of Shallot _

Sophie didn’t respond, brow furrowed.

“Interesting.” said Nicola from above them. “The Lion and the Snake seems to be a relatively new tale.”

“It is.” yawned Agatha. “Some stupid git from a couple hundred years ago thought it’d be a good idea to write it, it said it in the back. Don’t know what their crest was before that, though.”

Silence fell, for a while. 

Agatha got fed up and slammed the book shut.

“This is ridiculous,” she snapped suddenly. “I can’t believe they’re legitimately considering Rhian after everything he’s done. He spun them some yarn about Japeth manipulating him and they just  _ believed  _ him?”

“The thing is, the Kingdom Council were practically incontinent with horror that they almost let a Never onto Camelot’s throne.” sniffed Sophie. 

“They let  _ you  _ on the throne!”

“Because I had an Ever to balance me out, darling.”

“He’s got me!”

“Hmm.” Sophie peered at her. “That’s true. I wonder if Rhian thought of that, and it was why he tried to keep you under control?”

“Who cares? Didn’t work.”

“Quite, darling. But we just have to make sure you don’t die, because you make Tedros’s claim more reasonable...”

She trailed off. 

“Good to know the only reason my life is worth anything is because I can get Tedros’s arse on the throne.” groused Agatha. 

“What’s this about my arse?”

Tedros appeared beside them, smelling strongly of leather and metal.

“Nothing.” said Agatha gloomily. “Where have you been?”

“The smithy. Talking to the Knights about something.”

“Of course.” Agatha held up the book. “This is depressing, by the way.”

“I know. Merlin made me study it when I was a kid and I cried, because I thought the Lady of Shalott was gonna turn up in her boat and kill me.” he paused. “In retrospect, I don’t think I understood it.”

“I need to go back.” said Sophie, suddenly. 

Agatha didn’t understand her meaning, for a second. 

Then--

“To  _ Rhian? What?  _ Sophie, you can’t--”

“No one breaks men’s spirits like me, darling.” said Sophie, rising. “We need this to look as fair as possible, so Tedros’s win will look as legitimate as it can. And  _ Kei  _ can’t be his Queen, he’s too dour by far.”

“ _ I’m _ supposed to be the addled one!” spluttered Agatha, horrified. “You can’t go back to him! Staying with us makes him look weak--”

“But you know what would make him look even  _ weaker?  _ Losing in front of his lady love.” said Sophie, brushing her skirts down. “No, no. I’m quite decided, Aggie. I go back to him absolutely  _ insistent  _ that he’s going to win, fawning over him, saying I believe in him and I’m  _ soooo _ sorry I left him, just  _ heaping _ on the pressure and expectation. Then I plant a few little seeds of doubt. Not too many. Just enough to make it easier to break him.”

A pause. 

On the level above them, Nicola started laughing. 

“I’m sorry I ever called you stupid, Sophie.”

Sophie smiled thinly. Agatha drew breath--

“Oh Aggie, think about it.” said Sophie impatiently. “This has gone beyond whether or not Rhian is a good person. It’s a show. You have to play a part. Rhian is the virtuous, noble,  _ Good  _ king, represented by the Lion, and Teddy is… er...”

“Infinitely sexier.” interrupted Agatha bad-temperedly. “Whatever, I catch your drift. Go and snog Rhian. Don’t die. I don’t care.”

She knew it was infinitely clear that she  _ did  _ care, but she was too ill-tempered and tired to admit it. 

“Oh, Aggie, don’t be a curmudgeon,” sighed Sophie, wedging herself on the same chair as Agatha to hug her. Agatha got up and staggered off to the door, Sophie rushing after her to make sure she didn’t fall over--

As they moved off, though, Agatha heard Tedros and Nicola behind her. 

“But you can’t be the Snake.” said Nicola, still on the ladder above them. “Won’t work. You need something else. Another symbol.”

“Have something in mind?” asked Tedros mildly. 

“Maybe.” said Nicola slyly. “And I’ll tell you. For a price.”

“Which is what?”

“Confirm that I have correctly guessed your plan.”

* * *

Tedros and Agatha broke away from Sophie and Nicola at the Ginnymill pass.

“I still don’t like this.” said Agatha sourly, dismounting to hug Sophie tightly.

“No one does.” said Nicola from where she was still mounted. “Which is why I’m going with her.”

“Well, lucky for everyone,  _ they’re _ not going back to the den of half truths and poor body odour.” said Sophie primly, letting go of Agatha. “I am.”

Agatha ignored her deliberate misunderstanding of the sentiment. 

“I should come with you.”

“No, you shouldn’t.” said Tedros and Sophie at the same time.

“Not as if Japeth’s there to bother me anymore, is it?” snapped Agatha.

“You nearly fell off the horse twice today.” said Tedros. Agatha pretended she didn’t hear him. 

“He’s right.” said Sophie. “Besides, you’re needed here.”

Agatha grumbled something about being mollycoddled that everyone ignored. Sophie slung an arm around Agatha’s waist, pointing a razor-sharp nail at Tedros. 

“Keep her safe.”

“You know the only person who ever puts me in danger is  _ me.”  _ said Agatha. 

“That’s unfortunately true.” sighed Sophie, letting go of her and squeezing her hand. “So… don’t.”

Agatha snorted and turned to Nicola.

“I know you don’t need me to tell you to be careful, but--”

“I will.” promised Nicola, as Tedros and Sophie bickered behind them. “And I’ll make sure Sophie doesn’t get… carried away.” 

Agatha bit her cheek. 

“Yeah. Please do.”

“I don’t think she will, though.” said Nicola thoughtfully. “I think Rhian lost her the second he used you as leverage.”

“You think so?” asked Agatha nervously. 

“Can almost guarantee it.”

Before Agatha could question the  _ almost,  _ they were splitting up.

* * *

“Bold of you to come to me in such a manner, boy. Invading my domain. Goading me.”

The Lady of the Lake rose slowly from the water, haggard face twisted into a glare, white robes tattered. 

Tedros heard Agatha sigh, and knew she was irritated she hadn’t guessed. They’d come to Avalon-- the fact they were riding the same way as Nicola and Sophie, the fact Tedros had forced her to bring furs, the tense expression on his face as they approached should have all given it away. Still, her brain was not quite back at full working order.

What Tedros was after, though, he had yet to tell her.

Agatha shivered on the bank of the lake, holding Tedros’s sword belt as he waded deeper into the icy water, jaw set, trying not to look as if he was cold.

“I didn’t come to practice manners, Nimue.”

The Lady looked coolly at him, examining his dark clothes and grim expression. 

“Why should I help a Never?” she asked. “I am Good’s Guardian.”

“I thought you could make it a trend.” said Tedros, equally glacially. “Since you helped one kill my knight.”   
“I didn’t  _ mean _ to let an innocent boy die.”

“Didn’t you?” asked Tedros sourly, thinking of how she’d ignored Chaddick’s pleas.

“I thought--”

“You thought you smelt the blood of Arthur on the Snake, I know.” interrupted Tedros. “You didn’t.”

“He is your brother. I am no fool, boy. The blood that runs in your veins is the blood that runs in his.”

“In a way.” said Tedros. He saw Agatha, who clearly hadn’t expected him to agree, lean forwards slightly. “You were exposed to  _ my  _ blood when I was here, last year, and my blood is Never blood, the same as the Snake’s was. You hadn’t seen Arthur for years, and you never met me until that day. We never came together. You merely assumed his and mine were the same, because they were similar.”

The Lady’s face shifted slightly, and Tedros knew he had guessed correctly when she said;

“I am not interested in trifling with you.”

“Nor I you.”

“What do you seek, boy?”

“The sword of the King, lady.”

The Lady folded her arms. 

“The sword of the King has refused you, Tedros Pendragon.”

“I don’t mean Excalibur.” said Tedros softly. 

“Excalibur is your father’s sword, and therefore--”

“I am not interested in my father’s sword!” snapped Tedros, patience slipping. “Excalibur was forged by you as Good’s holy sword, and can only be drawn from the stone by an Ever, which is why I could not draw it from the stone. But Excalibur is  _ not  _ the one that should determine kingship. It is not the Sword in the Stone.  _ Caliburn _ is the Sword in the Stone. I came here to ask for it.”

“Tedros,” Agatha said vaguely from the bank. “You’re a genius.”

Tedros didn’t turn around, but he grinned. 

The Lady was silent for a long time. 

“I do not have it.”

“You do. It was thrown into the lake.”

“No, boy. Excalibur was thrown into the lake when your father was mortally wounded. For safekeeping until you took it to school.”

“No,” said Tedros softly. “I asked Bedievere myself. He admitted to lying. To throwing you Caliburn, not Excalibur. My father always brought both to battle. I remember watching him take them. They were worried by what he’d said about me. They wanted to keep the King’s sword safe in case of challenges, and use Excalibur to try and prove I was an Ever.”

“It didn’t work.” snapped the Lady. 

“It proved I wasn’t an Ever. It didn’t prove I wasn’t a legitimate King.”

“A sword does not make a King.” 

“I’ve learned that lesson. My father didn’t. He used Caliburn to stake his claim, and had you forge Excalibur to defend it. In the end, neither could help him. But up against Rhian, I feel I need a little extra insurance.”

“I will not give you the sword of Kings.”

“Why? If you think I’m not the true King, you should have nothing to fear, because I won’t be able to pull it.”

The Lady reddened, irritated. 

“Caliburn is defunct, now. A mark of an older line, of long dead Kings, not the Arthurian line. Do you have no regard for your father?”

Tedros’s face hardened to marble. 

“Very little, lady. I wish to honour Camelot and its people, not to strive to live up to an impossible ideal set by my father. I will represent the whole of Camelot, not one man.”

They stood for a moment, opposing one another.

“You may try to draw the sword.” said the Lady, finally. She stepped back and disappeared into the water. Tedros stood like a statue in the water. 

He’d stopped shivering. 

Presently, the surface of the lake shuddered, and a jagged, algae-covered rock rose slowly from the water like a spire. The hilt of a sword jutted from the rock, the blade buried so far into it that it was hardly visible. Tedros could see the Lady lurking just below the surface, robes billowing around her, eyes narrowed. 

Tedros waded forward-- then paused, and turned to look over his shoulder at Agatha, suddenly doubtful. Remembering the last time he’d tried something like this. 

Agatha looked back at him, arms folded on top of the hilt of his Akgul sword, expression surprisingly calm. The wind snapped her hair, and she glanced away, looking towards Camelot. 

Clearly, she had no doubts about whether he could pull it.

He was so glad he’d chosen her. 

Tedros turned back to the sword and gripped the hilt, teeth clenched. 

If he failed, and the Lady attacked him, he only hoped Agatha was in good enough shape to try and defend him. 

He sucked a breath in, tensed, and pulled--

The sword slid out of the stone as easily as it would have out of the water, ringing clearly on the rock and emerging gleaming, in perfect condition. 

He heard Agatha sigh in relief as he lowered it to his level. It was longer than Excalibur, a proper broadsword-- a weapon for battle, not an accessory. Not as elaborate, either-- no gold, no diamonds, no fancy engravings, save one thing; the dragon’s head at the end of the hilt. 

“Thank you, Nimue.” he said, turning to the Lady. She watched him, unmoving, from under the water as he waded back to shore--

“I hear you killed him.”

Tedros turned back. 

“Your brother. The Snake.” said the Lady, head and shoulders above the water. She pointed a gnarled finger at Agatha. “You killed him for her.”

“That’s right.” said Tedros. 

The Lady was silent for a moment, face pained. Then she reached into the water and drew out another blade-- a shorter, simpler one. 

“This was the boy’s.” she said. She held it out to him. “Do with it what you will.”

Tedros shifted Caliburn into his right hand, taking Chaddick’s blade in his shaking left. 

“Thank you.” he said, again. 

The Lady didn’t respond, backing away into the water and disappearing. Shivering, Tedros sloshed back to the bank, towards Agatha. 

“You didn’t  _ actually  _ need me for that.” said Agatha.

“I was sort of hoping you’d save me if she decided to try and kill me.” said Tedros, sitting down on the grass and taking off his boots to pour water out of them.

“I can barely stand up straight, Tedros.”

“Thought that counts, my love.”

* * *

Sophie stalked through Blue Tower, heels ringing like knives on the flagstones, as Rhian and his advisors scrambled behind her. Undignified, perhaps, but they’d all been so shocked when she’d breezed into their meeting, the Reader guard in tow...

“How did you get away from Tedros?” demanded Kei. 

“Get away?” snorted Sophie, gathering her furs around her shoulders. “I wasn’t a  _ prisoner.  _ Neither was Nicola. Teddy and I don’t always get along, but it wasn’t as if we were kidnapped. How ridiculous. We went with  _ Agatha,  _ since she was in… something of a state.”

She turned her gaze coolly on Rhian-- not saying anything, but Rhian could hear the accusation clearly enough. He tightened his jaw. He couldn’t defend himself in front of everyone present, because that would mean admitting he was in on it, even though he hadn’t known he was going to use the scims and he  _ probably  _ could have stopped him but--

He yanked his train of thought back on track.

“I presume she’s recovered?”

“Mostly.” said Sophie. “I felt I could return without much worry.”

The advisors murmured nervously. Rhian regretted his decision to keep on most of Tedros and Agatha’s courtiers-- he’d thought they would be easily swayed, and they had been, but they’d become much more doubtful of him recently…

“And you returned  _ because?”  _ asked Kei glacially. Sophie looked him up and down, taking in his unironed uniform and stubbly chin. They’d been rushed off their feet for the last few weeks-- press conferences, negotiations, burying Japeth and the Mistral Sisters, and the cover-ups, all the cover-ups. He and Kei had spent three sleepless nights concocting a cover story for any question they would be asked, any at all… even the most accusatory of them. 

“Because  _ someone  _ competent has to be by Rhian’s side to help him win the Trial of Kings, darling.”

Kei went red, furious, but Rhian turned to Sophie, too surprised to be annoyed. 

“You’re here to consolidate my power? As my Queen?”

Sophie blinked at him.

“Of course, sweetie.” she raised her hand, showing him the engagement ring. “Why, don’t you want me to?”

“No, no, of course I do, I just…” he drew himself up. “I’m surprised at how easily you’ve rejected Tedros.”

“Rejected… no. Not as a person. Teddy and I will be brother and sister, when Agatha is married to him.” said Sophie smoothly. “But I know which man I think is a better King.”

“And you?” Rhian asked Nicola. The first-year shrugged.

“I have no connection to Tedros, but I’ve seen first-hand the results of his poor decisions, questing with him as I was.”

“King Rhian,” said the Chancellor. “I’d advise you to be cautious--”

“How do I know this isn’t a ploy by Tedros?” demanded Rhian. “Sending you to get information about my preparations? So he can undermine me?”

Sophie snorted, turning away and making down the corridor, again, sweeping her hair over her shoulder and making it catch the light from the window. Rhian strode after her as she scoffed;

“Oh,  _ please.  _ As if I’d take orders from Tedros. And, frankly, if you think he would come up with such a thing, you are  _ vastly  _ overestimating him, and you’ll find this Trial a lot easier than you think.”

Rhian hesitated, glancing at his advisors. They all looked similarly torn. It was true that Sophie was highly unlikely to do anything for Tedros, much more inclined to serve herself as she was, but…

“I refuse to underestimate Tedros.” said Rhian firmly, looking hard at Nicola, who gazed calmly back. “I have no way of knowing what kind of things he’s been concealing alongside his identity as a Never. I don’t know if he has a talent, I don’t know if he’s been concealing his true character, nothing. I will take no chances.”

Sophie turned and looked coldly at him.

“You do me a great disservice,  _ my King,  _ if you think I would choose an ex-boyfriend from years ago over you.”

Rhian reddened, but Kei was jumping in, now.

“We know you don’t care about Tedros, but Agatha--”

“Agatha doesn’t desire a throne, only Tedros.” interrupted Sophie. “She will take it out of duty, but she will equally have no quarrel with Tedros losing, provided he keeps his head, which I presume he  _ will _ .”

“I have not yet decided what my judgement would be, if I won.” said Rhian. The advisors glanced at one another-- clearly, they’d all been expecting Rhian to have Tedros executed. It had been his first thought, but somehow, the thought of trying it was bothering him. 

“ _ When  _ you win.” corrected Sophie smoothly. “As I said, I have the utmost faith in your claim.”

Rhian swallowed.

_ What if he was, say, not Arthur’s son at all? What if he was… oh, I don’t know. Rafal’s? _

“Thank you, my Queen.”

Sophie smiled at him, the catlike gleam that Rhian had never quite been able to understand coming into her eyes. 

“Well then,” she said. “I want to discuss strategy. Let’s walk.”

Everyone started forwards--

Sophie held up one red-taloned nail. 

“ _ Alone,  _ I think. Nicola, you can go with Kei.”

“Rhian--” began Kei.

“I’ll see you later, Kei.” said Rhian, going after Sophie. 

Kei glared after them. 

* * *

“What game are you playing?” asked Rhian suspiciously, as they paced down the breezeway above the smithy. 

“The one where I win.” said Sophie smoothly, peering down at the blacksmiths rushing back and forth. 

“And what do you get if you win?”

Sophie turned and looked at him, and smiled. 

She didn’t respond. 

“ _ Is  _ your sister alright?” pressed Rhian nervously. “You didn’t sound sure.”

“Aggie will be fine.” said Sophie, gathering her skirts and seating herself on a bench. “Her balance is a little questionable, and she’s somewhat confused, at times, but she was remarkably fast to recover.”

“... I see.” said Rhian, remaining standing. “I understand why you followed Tedros’s camp, if it was that severe.”

Sophie looked up at him, the wry amusement she’d worn earlier conspicuously absent. 

“Like you said,” she replied. “You know everyone’s weaknesses.”

“I didn’t mean for her to be hurt.”

“For someone so clever, it was a woeful oversight.”

The charm she’d displayed earlier was being eroded by a much steelier visage. Rhian swallowed. 

“I didn’t understand what Japeth meant. I thought he was just going to threaten her, or Tedros, or…”

“And threatening them was much better, was it?”

Rhian didn’t respond. 

“Seemed perfectly happy about it at the time.” pushed Sophie. 

“You forget that I interfered when he threatened to kill her--”

“Because it didn’t suit you for that to happen.”

“Are you here to support me or not?” snapped Rhian. Sophie gazed at him. 

“If you were hoping for thoughtless praise, you have the wrong girl.”

“You baffle me.” growled Rhian. “First you insist you think I can win, praise me, then the second we’re alone you start berating me--”

“It’s called  _ not embarrassing you in front of your advisors  _ and it’s really not that complicated.” said Sophie smoothly. “I’m sure you can win, but if you think I’m going to blindly ignore everything you’ve done to get to this position, you are  _ sorely  _ mistaken, Rhian Pendragon.”

Rhian looked at her. 

“They gave me my mother’s surname. On the summons.”

“Because they are swayed by Teddy’s accusation. To my mind... there’s no question as to who your father is.” Sophie gestured to the spot beside her. “Sit. Tell me your strategy.”

Not quite sure why he was taking orders from Sophie, Rhian sat. Sophie waved a hand at the blacksmiths below them.

“What are those sweaty louts making? Looks like armour.”

“It is.” said Rhian. “I’m having a new set made.”

“Lion-themed?”

“Naturally. I need to remind the people who’s fighting for them. Is Tedros doing the same?”

“I know he’s getting one forged, but I have no idea what it looks like.” Sophie examined her nails. “I don’t think he’ll take the Snake persona, though.”

“What?” Rhian frowned. “Even if he doesn’t, it will be forced upon him.”

“Hard to call him a Snake when everyone saw him murder the previous one.” said Sophie. 

Rhian glanced nervously across at the banners of the Lion devouring the Snake that were pinned to the smithy walls.

“Well then, what  _ is  _ he choosing?”

“No idea.” said Sophie. “I’ll tell you something, though; he’s not going to want to be connected to his father. At all.”

Rhian stared at her, his ideas for his speeches withering even as he said; 

“ _ What?  _ But Tedros  _ idolizes  _ our father. Never shut up about him when we talked, always on about making him proud. The Knights of the Round Table are with him, too--”

“The Knights are there because they wanted to be, not because he asked them to be.” said Sophie. “He smashed a statue of Arthur and stole the crown from it. From what I can gather, he resents him for getting him into this mess.”

“That’s ridiculous,” snorted Rhian. “He got  _ himself _ into this mess by being a terrible King, and covering up his true natu--”

“Teddy didn’t know he was a Never.”

Rhian’s sentence died before he could finish it.

“He… what?”

“He didn’t know.”

“But-- but he stunned the guards, he fled--”

“Because he was furious. Deep down, he thought it was probably true, but he went to Good with the belief that he  _ was  _ Good.”

Rhian ground his teeth, frustration rising. If Tedros was rejecting Arthur altogether, his idea of rubbing in the fact that  _ he  _ was the first-born son and comparing them to Arthur and Kay wasn’t going to work, since Tedros wasn’t going to care. And if he wasn’t taking on the Snake persona…

Rhian took a deep breath.

“Well, it doesn’t matter. The fact remains that him being on the throne is now highly contentious and I’m the safe choice, not to mention that _I_ pulled Excalibur, and he didn't. I should be focusing on the challenges.”

“Yes, the challenges.” Sophie sat back. “Have you any idea what they might be?”

“None.” sighed Rhian. He smirked. “Still, I think I have the upper hand in terms of intelligence. Strength… he’s just stronger, not better tactically. Has bad technique in places.”

“And honour?” asked Sophie, eyes bright with what looked like hope. Rhian took a breath to answer--

_ Teddy didn’t know he was a Never. _

_ And threatening them was much better, was it? _

“Honour isn’t a Never thing.” he said, trying not to let his voice falter.

“No.” said Sophie, rising to continue walking, sweeping her furs around her shoulders and trailing the scent of lavender as she set off. “It’s not.”

* * *

“Caliburn, huh?” said Eris.

They were in the overgrown gardens of Tintagel, looking for herbs amongst the weeds, overgrown brambles and wild strawberries. 

“Yeah, Caliburn.” Agatha squinted suspiciously at a plant. “Is this ragwort or common groundsel?”

“Groundsel.” said Eris. Agatha threw it in the pond and went back to the patch. 

“Apparently he got Bedivere to admit he threw Caliburn in the lake, not Excalibur. Despite the narrative that Arthur liked to push, Excalibur wasn’t the Sword in the Stone. The Camelot people say that in some older paintings, Arthur holds two swords. Someone said there’s a statue of it at Good, in Merlin’s Menagerie.”

Eris looked suspiciously at her. 

“Didn’t you see it?”

“Um, I think maybe they didn’t replace that one after I burned it down.” muttered Agatha. Eris cackled. 

“Ah, of course.”

Agatha grinned sheepishly. 

“Tedros said it was true, though he said he’d forgotten about it until he started having a recurring dream about Merlin’s Menagerie, where his father threw him off the tower.” She caught Eris’s look and snorted. “Stress dream, I think. But it occurred to him to wonder what had  _ happened  _ to Caliburn, since he was sent to school with only Excalibur. So he went and asked the Knights, who were at Arthur’s last battle, and after some…  _ convincing-- _ ”

“They fought until Bedivere blurted it out?” guessed Eris.

“Yeah, basically. He found out that Caliburn had been thrown in, instead-- they claimed Excalibur had been retrieved for him to take to school, but that wasn’t true. Arthur had Excalibur on his deathbed. Caliburn was thrown into the lake in case of a challenge to Tedros’s succession… which, you know. Happened. Arthur had Excalibur forged by the Lady of the Lake to be Good’s sword, to give him legitimacy as the symbol of Good to the entire Woods, but Caliburn is the sword that affirmed him as the rightful King.”

“So…” said Eris slowly. “When Rhian pulled Excalibur… and he didn’t…”

“All it proved was that Rhian is an Ever and he’s not.” agreed Agatha. “Excalibur affirms Evers. Caliburn determines the King.”

“Interesting.” said Eris. “Could cause lots of problems for the oh-so-noble Rhian. What does Queen Guinevere make of this, by the way? She’s been a non-presence.”

Agatha frowned, carefully extracting some water hemlock from near the pond.

“I’m not sure. She seems… odd. I think she needs some time to come around to it.”

Eris looked unimpressed.

“Not as if he’s been  _ replaced _ . These Evers. God.”

She caught sight of Agatha staring at her.

“I forget you’re an Ever.”

“So does everyone.” said Agatha, sniffing a suspicious looking leaf. She went to bite it and Eris plucked it out of her hand. 

“Unless you want a rash on your tongue, I would not recommend that.”

“Oh.” Agatha took it back and put it in her basket. “Good.”

“This is  _ why  _ everyone always forgets it.” said Eris, clearly eyeing Agatha crouched in the dirt, rifling through foliage with a basket full of toxic plants. Agatha smiled thinly. 

“Yes, well. I’ll need to work on that, because I need to convince everyone I’ll be able to balance Tedros out.”

“It’s Callis’s fault.” said Eris, dumping a pile of greenery into the basket. 

“Undoubtedly.” said Agatha, suddenly feeling unsteady and sitting down slightly too abruptly on the floor. She could see Eris looking narrowly at her. 

“I’ll get the rest of them, if you want.”

“No.” said Agatha, scraping back to her knees and picking a few stems. “It’s fine.”

“You’re getting dizzy again.”

“I’m  _ fine _ .” insisted Agatha, even though she was right. She expected Eris to press the point, but she didn’t. Instead, she said;

“Not fond of being mollycoddled?”

Agatha sighed, wiping her hands on her skirt. She didn’t see any point in lying. No one but the two of them were around. 

“No.”

“You’ve been playing it down, then?”

“Maybe a little.” muttered Agatha. “Got so fed up with people fussing.”

“Yes, I gathered from watching you stagger everywhere on your own with people running after you, that you tend to prefer to be self-reliant. Don’t like the idea of having to rely on other people?”

“Not a lot.” admitted Agatha. She paused. “I just-- I don’t know. Everyone was being so weepy and agonizing over me and I just wanted them to stop, so… I kept insisting I was fine.”

“And you’re not?”

“I’m okay.” mumbled Agatha, crushing some rosemary in-between her fingers. 

Eris said nothing. Agatha glanced at her, and she looked evenly back at her. 

Clearly waiting her out. 

A classic Callis tactic. 

“I can’t relax,” blurted Agatha. “I keep thinking if I let my guard down, he’s gonna come and take over again. It’s stopping me from sleeping properly. I know he can’t, he’s dead, but-- but occasionally, when I’m on my own, I get things that he told me coming into my thoughts. About Rhian being the true King, needing to capture Tedros… things like that.”

She picked nervously at the skin around her nails. Eris pulled her hands away, coming to sit next to her. 

“But you can get rid of them?”

“Yes. And I know that they’ll probably stop, eventually. But… I can’t be sure.”

She changed to biting her nails. 

“For god’s sake, stop.” said Eris. “You’ve been touching loads of poisonous plants.”

Agatha firmly put her hands in her lap, but it didn’t stop them trembling. 

“It’s fine.” she said, but she could hear how unconvincing she sounded.

“Why do you keep saying that?” said Eris, putting her hand on her back. “It’s clearly not.”

Agatha shook her head. 

“I don’t--” Her voice cracked. “I don’t know.”

But then Eris moved her hand to the back of her head, like Callis always had, and Agatha lost it completely. 

They weren’t completely the same-- Callis would have said something comforting, instead of jumping straight into practicalities, and Eris was much less maternal, but Agatha didn’t find she minded. Close enough to be comforting, different enough to not be too painful. 

But it didn’t stop her crying. 

Sobbing so hard her throat burned, Agatha doubled over, letting Eris slide her hand across her back and pull her against her side. 

“Here’s what we’re gonna do.” she said, producing a handkerchief for her. “We’re gonna go and have a look at the scims that old fairy godmother woman retrieved from you, and then we’re gonna throw them into the fire pit. And once all this kingly shit is over, we’re gonna go and see where the Snake is buried, just so you can be sure he’s definitely dead. We can spit on his grave and everything.”

Agatha spurted a distinctly snotty laugh.

“I’m serious,” said Eris. “It’ll help. But before then, you’re gonna talk to the boy about it, because I know for a fact you haven’t.”

“Why does no one call Tedros by his name?”

“Because it’s a stupid name, and it’s amusing to disparage him. Say you’ll do it.”

“He’ll fret.” croaked Agatha reluctantly, wiping her nose. 

“Maybe you should let him.”

“No.”

Eris pinched her ear. Agatha slapped her hand--

“If you do it, I’ll give you some of your mother’s old stuff.”

“You can’t  _ bribe  _ me into talking to my fiancé.” said Agatha, peering sideways at Eris. 

“I shouldn’t have to.” said Eris sternly. 

That got her. 

Agatha fidgeted for a bit, frowning.

Finally, she said;

“...alright.”

“Great.” Eris let go of her and accidentally let her topple sideways into the dandelions. “Oh, sorry--”

“Fine--” spluttered Agatha, sitting up and spitting out fluff. “What have you got?”

“Some clothes that would probably fit you, she was about your age when she owned them… uh, some books, some trinkets. Stuff like that.”

Agatha looked at her. 

“Thank you.”

Eris shrugged and went back to rifling through plants, apparently deciding Agatha was not in danger of completely losing her shit again. She did look a little different to Callis’s original appearance, Agatha decided-- sharper, a little harsher, less rounded. A little darker in the hair and eyes. 

“Want to get these inside?” she said.

Eris looked suspiciously at her. 

“Can you walk?”

“Yes.”

“Can you  _ balance?” _

“As long as I can throw those goddamn scims into the firepit, I don’t really care.”

* * *

In the end, Tedros’s plan was relatively simple. 

“I refuse to take on the symbol of the Snake  _ or  _ the Eagle.” said Tedros as he, Agatha, and Beatrix hurried down to the smithy. “I don’t want to play into Rhian’s hands, since he’s manipulated that story far too easily. The original Kings of Camelot’s insignia was a dragon, hence our surname. I want that back-- to reconnect to the original history of the kingdom, before my father. Nicola found manuscripts with the original insignia on, I’ll pass them on to the smithy and the seamstresses. As for the challenges… there’s nothing we can guarantee either way. I’ll train as hard as I can over the coming weeks, but in the end it will probably come down to luck.”

“Bettina has already been running articles in your favour for weeks, now.” said Beatrix. “Pointing out that they were perfectly happy to have Sophie, and at any rate, you’ll have Agatha. Some people are sceptical about the 100% Good thing, but Princess Uma confirmed the whole  _ wishes  _ thing to the  _ Jaunt Jolie Journal  _ last week, and it’s quietened down since then.”

Agatha’s expression had flattened in the way that Tedros had used to assume was grumpiness, but had now come to recognise as the formation of an idea. He resolved to ask her about it later, and turned back to Beatrix as they emerged into the hot, smoky forgery. 

“I’ve got something for you.”

Beatrix raised her eyebrows. Tedros produced the shortest sword from his belt. 

“This was Chaddick’s. The Lady gave it to me. I think you should have it. I know you didn’t  _ actually  _ have a thing, and you both prefer bows, but you were friends, and now you’re his successor…”

He trailed off as Beatrix quietly took the blade from him. 

“Is this the one he helped make in first year? In Weapons Training?”

“Yeah.” said Tedros, grinning at the memory. “His was by far the best. Ours all sucked and broke. He was so proud of it. Took it everywhere.”

“I remember.” said Beatrix. “Said he’d protect me with it. Roles have switched somewhat, haven’t they?”

“Really? Threatened to  _ attack _ me with it.” said Agatha, pulling various bottles and bundles of plants out of her endless pockets. Tedros and Beatrix looked awkwardly at one another, until Agatha snorted. “I wouldn’t bother looking like that, both of you actually followed through.”

“You fought each other?”

“Beatrix tripped me into the wall of the common room and knocked me out.” said Agatha. Tedros gawked. Beatrix grimaced. 

“Trying to stop you from stopping  _ us  _ from going after Sophie.”

“So I gathered.”

“Sorry, _ what?”  _ demanded Tedros. Both Agatha and Beatrix ignored him. 

“Never mind that now.” said Agatha. “What are you doing with these swords?”

“Moving the shattering enchantment from the Akgul blade to Caliburn, and imbuing the Akgul blade with… whatever horrible poisonous concoction you’ve got.”

“It was what my mother used to call her  _ Last Resort.”  _ said Agatha. “She kept it right at the back of the cupboard and I was not allowed to touch it. But I watched her make it once, and Eris told me what was in it, so we went to get the plants. Managed to recreate it.”

“What  _ is  _ in it?” asked Beatrix. 

“You don’t want to know.” Agatha said. “You should be asking what it  _ does.” _

“What does it do?” asked Tedros.

“Kills you, but makes it look like either cholera or tuberculosis, depending on how much you take on and what part of you it gets first. There’s an antidote, but you have to be fast about it.”

Beatrix took a decisive step away from Agatha.

“And… Callis never used it.” said Tedros. “Right?”

“I have no idea.” said Agatha cheerfully. “Sure you don’t want to use it on Caliburn, too?”

“Sure.” said Tedros, producing both blades and laying them on a worktable. “Enchantments can be removed, but poisoning a blade is much more permanent, and I don’t want to accidentally kill some poor squire who gets forced to carry it.”

“Fair enough. Do the shattering thing, then, I’ll finish off making this--” she paused, frowning. “How the hell do you know how to enchant a blade?”

“I was about to ask the same thing.” said Beatrix. “As far as I remember, you’re infamously crap at magic.”

Tedros huffed. So little faith from his knight and his Queen.

“I’ll have you know that I’ve practiced a lot. I seem to have developed a… talent.”

Agatha squinted. 

“Talent with a capital T? Because you never had one at the Circus.”

“Yes, a  _ Talent.”  _ said Tedros. “How do you know my talent wasn’t asking you to the ball, anyway?” 

“That’s not a talent.” said Agatha. 

“I think every other Everboy thought he was the most talented bastard to walk the earth, for having the strength of will to ask  _ Agatha. _ ”

Tedros turned an unimpressed gaze on Beatrix, who grinned. Agatha cackled.

“That’s true.”

“It’s not true!” said Tedros.

“I don’t know what version of events  _ you  _ remember, but they’re definitely not right if you’re protesting that.” snorted Agatha, crushing plants under the heel of her palm. 

Tedros decided not to tell her about the earth-shattering chaos that had descended upon the boy’s dorms after the infamous Day of the Duckling and turned his attention to the swords, lighting his fingerglow as Agatha and Beatrix continued to bicker behind him. He pulled the blade Ravan had given him towards him and ran his finger down the centre of the flat of the blade, pulling a streak of light down the middle, watching the light spread to streak the sharpened edges of the blade. Then he picked up Caliburn, positioned it behind the Akgul sword--

Agatha and Beatrix jumped as Tedros clashed the two blades together, then stared as the light jumped to Caliburn, burning so brightly they had to look away--

With a sound like a gunshot, the enchantment flashed and faded away. Tedros squinted at the blade, found where it gleamed just slightly wrong, and knew it had worked. 

“Oh, good. Thought I might mess it up.”

“What would happen if you messed it up?” asked Beatrix. 

“I may have exploded the sword of Kings.” said Tedros. “You done with that, Agatha?”

“Yeah, here. Don’t get it on your face, it hurts like a bitch.” Agatha slid the mortar with the poison across to him. Tedros looked doubtfully at it.

“How did you make this so easily?”

“I am a woman of many talents.” said Agatha, settling herself on a bench.

“Bear that one in mind.” muttered Tedros, turning back to the swords. 

“Yeah, in case I get bored of you and decide to kill you so I can go and marry Radley after all.”

Oh, he’d prayed she’d forgotten about that--

Tedros threw his polishing rag at her. Agatha caught it, grinning. 

“Who’s  _ Radley?”  _ demanded Beatrix. 

“The heartthrob of Gavaldon.” said Agatha. 

“He looks like a star-nosed mole.” said Tedros. “He’s the  _ Hort  _ of Gavaldon.”

“Hort’s  _ hot _ , now.” pointed out Beatrix. 

“Is he? I wouldn’t know. I avoid looking him in the eye, much like Medusa.”

“Tedros, can I have a word?”

Tedros looked up to find Ravan waiting in the doorway. 

“Sure, yeah--”

“I need to get fitted for things, anyway.” said Agatha, rising. Tedros frowned at her. 

“What, armour? You’re not fighting.”

“Not armour. I’ll explain later.” Agatha disappeared, Beatrix in tow. Thinking this probably had something to do with her earlier idea, Tedros gave it up for now and followed his classmate. 

“Galahad’s not offended that I chose Beatrix, is he?” asked Tedros as they emerged into the courtyard. Ravan waved him off. 

“No, he said he wasn’t. You need someone your age, and I don’t think choosing Lancelot’s son would have set a very good precedent, anyhow. Best to have someone unconnected to the scandals of the past. No, I came to warn you.”

“About what?”

Ravan grimaced. 

“I won’t sugar-coat it. The Kingdom Council will do everything in their power to stop you from winning. Rhian’s the safe choice. He has the suspicion of a false claim hanging over him, but they still think he’s a more stable candidate. The Never rulers will have forced the hand somewhat, so I don’t think the actual  _ tasks _ will be unfair, but the judgement at the end… it’s bound to be half-decided before you even set foot at Four Point. It’s incredibly easy to villainise you, compared to Rhian.”

Tedros clenched his jaw. He’d foreseen this, but having it said to him made it feel worse--

“However,” said Ravan. “Agatha has had a rather interesting idea.”

* * *

“I know what you’re doing.”

Sophie stopped buttoning her gloves, but she didn’t actually turn around. She could see Kei in the mirror, stood at the open door, looking hard at her. 

“What am I doing, darling?”

“Rhian. You’re trying to manipulate him.”

Hm.

How interesting, that he came to her now.

“Oh,  _ please.”  _ sighed Sophie, securing the button and stepping back to examine the overall look. “Kei, dear, don’t you think that Rhian is a bit too clever to be manipulated?”

“No, I don’t, actually.” Kei stepped inside, pushing the door ajar. “Rhian is clever, but Japeth could do it. So could the Mistral Sisters. And I know you can.”

“Who, little old me?” 

“Oh, don’t give me that shit. I read your tale. We all did. You know exactly what strings to pull. His insecurity about his lineage. His pride in his intelligence. His nerves about Japeth and the Mistrals being gone. How hard he leans on the Lion persona.”

Sophie said nothing, examining her cloth of gold gown. She looked a vision, she thought-- it could have done with a less strangling collar, and a leg slit would have been nice, but the tiara settled in her loose mane of hair, the elaborate stitching, the white gloves, the lion locket, the long train and the tight bodice--

“Don’t think I don’t notice the emphasis you keep putting on Arthur.” snapped Kei, when she said nothing.

Sophie finally turned from the mirror. He was clever too, this stoic marble boy, she’d come to realise that. Rhian manipulated, he observed from the shadows and gave him his ammunition. Kei had been the one to lock Tedros in the dungeons, had fed Rhian information about his insecurities… and now, had realised Sophie’s game.    
Perhaps she’d been worried about the wrong boy. 

“His father is important to him.” she said sweetly. 

“Yes.” said Kei tightly. 

“Don’t tell me you  _ believe  _ those outlandish rumours.” sighed Sophie, selecting ruby earrings to match her cloak. “The King’s liege, convinced he’s a liar and a bastard? Tut tut, Kei. I wonder what Rhian would have to say if he knew that.”

“You can’t play this game with me.” said Kei coldly. “He’s already displeased with me, and ignoring me is the worst he can do. He can’t be rid of me. There’ll be no one left if I’m gone.”

“There’ll be  _ me.” _

“I don’t believe for a minute you’ll remain with him, once he’s served your purpose.”

“Don’t you? Mm. Shame.” Sophie turned back to the mirror to apply her lipstick, watching him narrowly in the mirror. She smacked her lips, smiled, and said;

“You two were close at school, weren’t you? Close as brothers.”

“Closer.”

“How sweet.” 

“I seem to have been usurped.”

“By no fault of mine, I can assure you, if that’s what you’re implying. Perhaps he finds you dull compared to me.”

“You’re doing this on purpose.” hissed Kei. “I know you’re trying to cut him off from anyone who genuinely supports him. I know you and Nicola are still working for Tedros’s victory.”

“Someone who  _ genuinely  _ supports him? Darling, secretly doubting his claim is not g _ enuinely supporting him _ .”

The ajar door creaked slightly as Kei began to pace, agitated.

“You double-crossing snake.” he hissed. “I heard you and Agatha questioning Tedros with my own ears, and you have the  _ audacity  _ to tell me that when I do the exact same thing, I don’t love him?”

“That’s not what I said.” Sophie replied softly. 

Kei’s throat bobbed. 

“It doesn’t matter.” he said brusquely, regaining himself. “What matters is that I  _ know  _ you’re trying to set him up to fail--”

“And  _ I _ know that it was  _ you _ who told Tedros the allegations in the first place.”

Kei went white.

Then red.

“You don’t understand.” he said, stopping in front of the door. 

“I don’t.” said Sophie. “Enlighten me as to how actively working to have him overthrown proves any kind of love.”

Kei was silent for a long moment. Then he said;

“I don’t want Rhian to win.”

Sophie cocked an eyebrow. Kei rushed on, the explanation becoming harried and tangled;

“He’s not the same. The power is getting to him. He’s become obsessive with it, obsessed with winning over Tedros, obsessed with proving himself and getting to rule and getting everyone to love him. And if… if it was revealed that he  _ wasn’t  _ Arthur’s son, that his entire goal, his entire obsession, was a lie, I think it would break him. He’s already starting to crack, the doubt is weighing on him, I-- I just want  _ him  _ back, and I know if he wins… I never will.”

“Horribly selfish.”

“We’re all selfish.” said Kei roughly. “But I told Tedros because I thought, if Tedros won, Rhian might have a chance of regaining himself. But if he wins, and it’s proven later that his father is Rafal…”

“ _ Proven _ , Kei?”

Kei had never looked more like a statue than the moment when Rhian pushed the door open.

He froze, his face closing off so abruptly it was unsettling, his features becoming blank and malleable once again. He stiffened, standing to attention like a proper guard, and stood, frozen, as Rhian entered the room, dressed in a shining suit of armour with a gold surcoat over the top that matched Sophie’s gown.

“ _ Proven.”  _ hissed Rhian, stalking over to him. “ _ You,  _ of all people, believe Tedros’s lies? And not only that, you  _ fed _ them to him? I should have known. You betrayed me once before. I always knew you would do it again. I was a fool to give you a second chance.”

Sophie watched silently, as Kei stared straight ahead, face so determinedly calm it looked painful. 

“I did what I judged to be right.” he said blankly. 

“ _ Right?”  _ seethed Rhian. “You sought to overthrow me with my… with  _ him!  _ You fed him lies that he then spread to the entire  _ Woods!” _

Kei said nothing--

Then caught sight of Sophie, standing there. 

“You set me up.” he said.

He was right. 

She had. 

She’d told Rhian to come and collect her. She’d known he’d not be able to resist eavesdropping. She’d steered the conversation to force Kei into confessing. 

“ _ You--” _

He might have lunged for her, had Rhian not grabbed him and pulled him back. 

“No, Kei. You set  _ yourself  _ up.” he said, suddenly cold. “You’ve betrayed me.”

Kei’s face faltered. Restored itself.

“I-- no,  _ she--” _

“Sophie has done nothing but support me.” said Rhian. “ _ You,  _ on the other hand, have been working against me from the very start.”

“I’m doing what’s best for you,” insisted Kei. “Rhian, listen to me--”

But Rhian wasn’t listening at all. 

He was past it.

“After this tournament,” he said, breathing hard. “I will no longer require your services.”

“...what?” 

“I am relieving you of your duties. You may return to your mother and sister in Foxwood.”

“You’re...  _ firing _ me? Rhian. No, Rhian, you can’t--”

“You will be given an honourable discharge once I have  _ won the Trial of Kings.”  _ said Rhian. “I’d say that Tedros would offer you a job, but you betrayed  _ him _ first. Perhaps you can go and work somewhere where trust is not a requirement.”

A pause. 

Kei turned his head towards Sophie. 

“You’re choosing her.” said Kei in disbelief. “Over me.  _ Her. _ ”

Rhian didn’t respond, letting go of him and holding his arm out to Sophie.

“Come, my Queen.” he said, turning his back on a dumbstruck Kei. Sophie silently moved to his side. “Captain, I want you by the carriage with our squadron in ten minutes.”

“Rhian.” said Kei, voice starting to shake. “Rhian, you can’t do this. Don’t be a fool--”

Hr rushed forward and grabbed his shoulder--

And Rhian turned on Kei, face so twisted with rage that for a second, he looked exactly like his brother. He shoved him away, so hard that he knocked the other man into the wall.

“If you can manage that,” he said glacially. “Traitor.”

And for the first time, Sophie saw Kei’s face crumple completely, the marble facade shattering as tears brimmed--

The door slammed shut and she was guided away on Rhian’s tense, trembling arm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you I was gonna get the two swords thing into this lmao. also I LOVE that last scene lmao poor Kei. Slaps tho. ACOT vibes. am I allowed to praise my own stuff in the notes? idk. oh well lmao. let me know what you thought!!!!


	3. PART 3: WHATEVER HERE THAT'S LEFT OF ME

**PART THREE: WHATEVER HERE THAT’S LEFT OF ME**

_With a steady stony glance— / Like some bold seer in a trance, / Beholding all his own mischance, / Mute, with a glassy countenance— / She look'd down to Camelot._

_\--_

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

_The Lady of Shalott (1832)_

**_THE_ ** **CARRIAGE RIDE TO FOUR POINT** was a relatively short one, thankfully. 

In the centre of a parade of guards marching soldiers and standard bearers, Sophie and Rhian were displayed to the people in their open-top carriage, both clothed in gold and scarlet, lion insignias every which way-- around their necks in lockets and chains, emblazoned on Rhian’s shield, hung from the spears of the knights riding beside them, embroidered on Rhian’s cuffs and Sophie’s hemline, and on the hilt of Excalibur, which was resting across Rhian’s lap. They rode through the town to the cheers of the crowds lining the streets, waving yet more lions and banners emblazoned with Rhian’s face. Sophie couldn’t help but notice, though, the ones who didn’t cheer-- grandparents skulking in shopfronts, a gaggle of teenage girls in black boots, servants with the royal insignia on their shoulders… people with a lingering loyalty to Tedros, the prince they’d seen grow up, or those who had been endeared to Agatha. The people who had been forced into bending the knee to Rhian, now seeing an opportunity to resist him. 

Sophie smiled and waved, and Rhian did the same, playing to the crowds as ever; accepting flowers from onlookers and smiling at children with toy Excaliburs. Sophie bit back a sigh, externally trying to look as loving as possible, and glanced away-- 

Kei, riding beside them, caught Sophie’s gaze and shot her a look of blackest loathing. His eyes were red-rimmed. Poor boy. Didn’t understand that, really, they were working towards the same goal. Rhian would lose, and he could have him all to himself for all Sophie cared. But Sophie had to ensure it, and that was at the cost of Kei and Rhian’s relationship. Whether Rhian would be decent enough to try and repair it was quite another matter.

Sophie turned her face away, and caught Nicola’s eye, who nodded at her. Nicola had been invaluable, these past few weeks. Deliberately leaving her alone with Rhian, consistently trying to get Kei to complain about Rhian, reporting conversations between Rhian and advisors… 

Everything Sophie needed to break him.

They reached Four Point by sundown, and rode a path lined by supporters from every corner of the Woods. At first, Sophie thought they were all in favour of Rhian-- and then she heard the variety of shouts. 

“HAIL TO THE LION!”  
“BASTARD!”   
“IMPOSTER!”

“ALL HAIL KING RHIAN!”

“DEATH TO THE USURPER!”

“KILL TEDROS!”

“LIAR!”

Rhian’s face stiffened slightly, but he managed to keep his composure, looking nobly ahead. Sophie copied him-- smiling serenely, but silently taking in everything around her. 

Four Point had been completely transformed from the last time she’d been here. Neutral ground as it was, representatives from every kingdom had gathered amongst striped tents, teetering sets of stands already seating hundreds, and vendors furiously selling Lion merchandise or encouraging people to make bets on the final outcome. The crowd was immense. Nymphs and sirens from Ooty, man-wolves from Bloodbrook, humans of every shape and size, giants from Frost Plains and Glass Mountain, fairies from Gillikin… the scope was enormous.

With any luck, Rhian would not rule them.

They rode down the fields, approaching a huge set of covered seating, towering above everything else. Looking up, Sophie could see the standards of all of the kingdoms in the Kingdom Council hung from the bottom.

All except one gap in the centre.

Left open for the standard of the Camelot’s victor. 

Sophie swallowed her nerves. She had done all she could. Rhian was as unstable as she could make him. Nervy about his potential illegitimacy, isolated from Kei, uncertain about Tedros’s plans and wildly unsure about his strategy, heavily reliant on Sophie, who would soon be gone. His dangerous brother was dead, his manipulative aunts too…

She wondered if he knew how alone he really was. 

No matter.

He would.

The carriage drew to a stop, and Sophie caught sight of the two of them on the immense Spellcast screens looming before the seating-- resplendent in their gold and red, a matching couple in a snow-white carriage, the perfect vision of Good. 

Too bad both of them were rotten to the core. 

Sophie caught sight of the pirate guards riding beside them, an ever-present irritation, and a line came, unbidden, into her head--

_Not yet eighteen, but still damn mean!_

She smothered a snort as the carriage drew to a stop. Whiskey Woo? Now?  
Well, she couldn’t argue with it. 

Rhian was going to find out exactly how mean she could be, soon enough. 

She looked up at the seating, and found the Kingdom Council in the centre, all staring down at them-- some with approval, some with distaste, some with no expression to speak of. It made sense. Some kingdoms had openly declared allegiance to Tedros from the start-- Arne and Mahati were both visible, wearing black, with steely expressions turned away from Rhian. Others, like Robin and the Sheriff of Nottingham, and the Sultan of Shazabah, had rejected Rhian after he’d imprisoned the students of the School-- Sophie could see Reena beside her father, and Dot with hers. Anadil was sitting with the Bloodbrook party, next to her equally severe mother-- a Countess, who had the ear of the King. They must have come over with Mahati and Arne earlier that day. 

Still, there were plenty of Rhian supporters-- despite his initial wavering, the King of Foxwood was clearly desperate for Rhian to win, clutching a Lion flag tightly and clapping furiously. So too was the Empress of Putsi, the Maharani of Mahadeva… the list went on. Queen Jacinda of Jaunt Jolie’s face was completely neutral as she clutched her two young sons. To Sophie’s surprise, Bettina was next to her, looking uncomfortable in a high-necked gown. Clearly Tedros had sent anyone who might have even the smallest bit of influence over the final result to the stands. Slightly morally questionable. Very Never. Sophie thought she might be rather proud of him.

But perhaps she should reserve that judgement until the winner was announced. 

_Actually_ , she thought as Rhian helped her down from the carriage, _where_ **_is_ ** _Tedros_ ? The summons had not technically specified a time beyond _sundown,_ but she had assumed they would arrive at around the same time, and the sun was almost completely gone. 

Trying to keep her face neutral, she let Rhian lead her across to a dais set up for them, as the spectators filed into the remaining stands, muttering nervously. The King of Foxwood kept standing up, looking north. Several Ever leaders were whispering frantically to each other. Arne and Mahati looked calm, which suggested to Sophie this was planned...

“He’s late.” snorted Rhian, settling in his chair and crossing his legs idly. “Typical.”

Sophie smiled faintly. The guards assembled around them-- Nicola next to Sophie, Kei on the very fringe, determinedly looking away from Rhian. Sophie looked across at the other, currently empty, dais-- where Agatha would sit, once the Trial started. Always on opposing sides, weren’t they? Well, to hell with that. It was cold, so she could go over and share her cloak. Who was going to stop them? _They_ weren’t the ones fighting. 

Sighing, she sat back and waited. And waited. 

And waited. 

The Rhian supporters in the stands started to chant;

“ _LION! LION! LION!_ ”

The Nevers booed and hissed and a couple of small fights broke out. The Kingdom Council muttered too.

“Maybe he’s bailed out.” grinned Rhian. “Always was a coward--”

That was when Sophie heard the drums. 

Rhian heard them too, and his smile faded, but he recovered himself quickly. 

“Too much to ask for, clearly. Let us see what he’s trying.”

He stood and folded his arms, eyes narrowed, squinting into the dark trees northwards. Sophie stood too, quietly anticipatory. The drumming got louder, a rhythmic hammering in time with the pounding of feet and the clatter of hooves, and Rhian’s smile faltered again as the light of torches swept through the trees. 

The first to emerge were ranks of foot soldiers, all armoured identically in ordinary iron, helmets completely covering their faces-- all soldiers from different kingdoms, all united under one banner. 

The banner…

Sophie heard a creak of wood as everyone leaned forward, the standard bearers emerging from the trees for the first time-- Galahad and Kay, she realised-- but the flag was unrecognisable, carried limp--

Until the wind snapped through the trees and yanked it out, and several people gasped. 

Not the snake at all, though coiled much like one-- but a dragon, red on black, spitting smoke and flame as it chased itself in an endless circle. 

Rhian’s jaw tensed visibly. His Lion carried less weight this way, and he knew it. Not only that, but Tedros was clearly underscoring his undeniable legitimacy in light of Rhian’s uncertain one-- exaggerated further by the presence of his mother, on horseback next to the knights.

Sophie smirked and hastily turned it into a yawn when Rhian glanced at her. 

More cavalry-- the rest of the Knights of the Round Table, surrounded by the drummers and ever more marching infantry. Sophie and Rhian had brought some soldiers, but Tedros seemed to have come prepared for an actual battle. Prudent, Sophie supposed-- foolish to expect Rhian to play fair after everything that had happened. And it was certainly making an impact. People were standing up, now, and several people had run onto the field to get a better look as the first ranks arrived in front of the stands. The King of Foxwood looked jittery, Jacinda was watching carefully, and Arne and Mahati were muttering to one another, looking smug.

Then--

“There, there!” shouted the King of Foxwood. 

Tedros had indeed had new armour forged. 

Blonde hair stark against the black metal, Tedros rode in surrounded by soldiers, two swords at his side, bloody cape slung across his right shoulder. His face was fully exposed-- though Sophie could see the twisted black helm under his arm-- and breathtakingly disdainful, in a way Sophie had only seen in second year, when he’d taken the position of School Master. His hair was longer, gaze sharper, more focused. His armour was intricately carved with the dragon insignia on the chest, and looked more jagged than the norm, possibly sharp enough to cut his assailant, if he was hit wrong. Interesting. Sophie had no doubt Ravan had drafted in some Akgul blacksmiths to work on that.

And beside him...

Someone in the stands above them gasped.

Once, Agatha had been considered the cat in the nightingale’s nest. 

Now, she looked like a ghost. 

Sophie had always been of the opinion that white made Agatha look unwell, since it clashed with her very similar complexion and made her hair and eyes too prominent. Now was no exception-- but this time, that was clearly the goal. 

Agatha rode next to Tedros in a white gown, clasped at the throat and by a chunk of diamond, loose and long at the arms but tight at the waist and chest, exaggerating her bony, almost gaunt figure. The high collar made her eyes look prominent and kept her head up, to expose her sharp, sallow, face. A needle-like crown of pearls was set in her dark hair, and her girdle was similarly decorated. She still looked slightly unsteady, Sophie thought, which might account for how close Tedros was riding to her, and why Hester and Eris were on her right and behind her, respectively. But it worked.   
She looked like an Ever. 

She looked like a martyr. 

And it had clearly been her idea. 

To come in matching Tedros, while typical of her, would have cast into doubt the idea that she was able to balance him out, and made people sceptical of her being 100% Good. To come in dressed like this, she affirmed herself as an Ever, and proved her ability to moderate Tedros-- but she also made people terribly, terribly guilty. She was a reminder that the position of Tedros’s future bride and Queen had been taken from her, in white and crowned as she was... 

And in exaggerating the fact she still looked ailing, she was reminding everyone of exactly what Rhian had let happen to her.

Swallowing a smile, Sophie glanced at Rhian, who had gone the same colour as Agatha’s dress. She’d been right to assume he was still guilty about this. 

People were starting to mutter nervously, glancing between Tedros’s stony face and Agatha, sticking out in the sea of black and red. 

Tedros reached the field and dismounted, moving around to help Agatha down. Yes, they’d calculated this perfectly, Sophie realised as Hester and Eris followed behind Agatha, faces shadowed by hoods-- supposedly attendants, much more likely to be bodyguards. Ravan and Beatrix walked behind Tedros, Beatrix carrying Tedros’s shield and Ravan his banner. 

“Claimants,” said Queen Jacinda, chosen as the Master of Ceremonies due to her status as the leader of the second most powerful Ever Kingdom, voice booming across the field. “I bid you, shake hands.”

Identical disdain crossed both Tedros and Rhian’s faces, but Sophie knew they wouldn’t be able to get out of it, trying to look favourable as they were. Reluctantly, they stepped down from the twin daises and grasped each other’s hands-- Sophie heard the clash of metal on metal as their gauntlets collided and slid, as the two tried their best to crush one another’s fingers. She sighed and glanced at Agatha, who caught her eye and flicked her gaze away before she could laugh, visible on the Spellcast screens as they were. 

“By coming here, you promise to honour the summons upon which you arrived.” said Jacinda. “The victor, decided by the Kingdom Council after the Third Task, will be hailed as the King. The loser must honourably surrender their claim, or face the judgement of the winner, whatever that may be. You must act honourably, as your every move will be observed. In the event one of you yields, the surrender will be final, and the surrendering claimant will be the loser.”

Rhian smirked. Tedros scowled. Clearly, they didn’t consider that an option. 

“Claimants,” said Queen Jacinda. “Declare your weapons, and let your Queens proffer your weapon of choice to his majesty, the King of Akgul, who will examine them to ensure they are acceptable for use.”

Rhian smiled. 

“I bring only one weapon,” he declared. “Excalibur, Good’s Sword which proclaimed me King. My father’s sword.” 

He drew it and handed it to Sophie, whilst the crowd cheered. Sophie turned to Agatha and Tedros--

“I carry two swords.” said Tedros calmly, drawing the first one-- the black Akgul blade he’d killed Japeth with. “First, a sword of Akgul iron, with which I slew the Snake.” He handed it to Agatha as the Nevers stamped their feet and the Camelot supporters who’d come in favour of him cheered. “And the second…” he drew it. “Caliburn, the Sword in the Stone. The Sword of Kings.”

A second.

Sophie gawked. Rhian’s face went stony--

All around them, the crowd erupted into shouting. 

“Caliburn was lost.” spat Rhian. 

“It was kept by the Lady of the Lake.” said Tedros loudly, over the tumult. “I rode to Avalon to draw it from stone, with Nimue herself and Agatha to witness it. I took it from the stone like all the Kings before me, and now I bring it to this Trial to assert my claim.”

Agatha took it from him and moved forward to where the King of Akgul stood behind a table, wiry black eyebrows raised. He took Excalibur from Sophie, first.

“Excalibur… yes, seems to be in good condition. Enchantments?”

“None added.” said Sophie. “Apart from the ones implicit in it.”

“Naturally, naturally. And you, my lady? Ah, one of my kingdom’s swords… in lovely nick. Bequeathed by the Tedros’s seneschal, I hear. Enchantments?”

“The blade is tainted with poison.” said Agatha.

“By who was this work done?”

“The poison was provided by me, my lord. It was added to the blade by Tedros.”

More mutters. Rhian frowned disapprovingly. Sophie snorted quietly. Probably Callis’s _Last Resort,_ if she knew Agatha. Clearly, she was taking no chances _._

“I see.” said the King of Akgul. “And this…” reverently, he took Caliburn from her. “A beautiful blade.”

“It has to be fake!” insisted Rhian. 

“If you like, I’ll stick it in your chest and draw it back out to prove it’s real.” snapped Tedros. The crowd jeered. “Besides, Sir Bedievere, who threw it to the Lady of the Lake, can attest it.”

Everyone turned to the old knight, who inclined his head. 

“I threw Caliburn to the Lady of the Lake, and gave Excalibur to Tedros when Arthur died. It is real.”

The King of Akgul seemed to agree. 

“An ancient blade.” he said, turning it over and over. “Clearly the true Caliburn. Swords like this cannot be faked. Enchantments?”

“Those implicit in it, and a temporary shattering enchantment, which can be removed once the Trial is over.” said Agatha. 

“Hmm. Satisfactory.”

“He defiles it!” insisted Rhian. 

“Do you know the meaning of _temporary?_ ” snapped Tedros. 

“Claimants, hold your peace.” said Jacinda, looking calmly between the two men. “Retrieve your weapons. All properties of weapons have been declared. There is no more preparation to be done. Please mount your horses. You will be led to the first task.”

One of the horses that had drawn the carriage had been saddled for Rhian, and Tedros returned to Benedict silently, seeming unperturbed by this instruction. Sophie was more wary. Clearly, whatever this first task was, it required a lot of space…

Rhian stalked after Tedros, trying to look unbothered, but clearly he’d been thrown by the Caliburn revelation. He kept glancing at the sword, returned to Tedros’s scabbard, and every time he did his face darkened. If he had drawn it from the stone, then that meant...

Sophie had expected Kei to follow him, but now noticed Agatha had followed Tedros and realised _she_ was supposed to do that. Hastily, she snatched up her skirts and hustled after Rhian over the grass, not sure what she was meant to do. Tedros and Agatha were muttering urgently to one another, faces inches apart. Whether it was a profession of love or a reaffirmation of strategy, Sophie could only guess. Probably both. 

She reached Rhian and turned to find him looking at her. 

They stood apart, for a moment, facing one another. Rhian’s face was unreadable. Sophie could see that hers, in the looming Spellcast, was similarly blank. Neither spoke. Neither made a move to turn away. 

Shrieks and cheers erupted from the crowd, and Sophie didn’t need to look to know that Agatha had kissed Tedros. Several Ever noblewomen in the front row-- Camelot, Jaunt Jolie, Putsi-- were openly sobbing. 

She made no move to copy Agatha, and Rhian didn’t look as if he expected her to. His gaze shifted briefly to Tedros and Agatha, but his expression didn’t change. He looked back towards the crowd, fidgeting with the lion-headed hilt of Excalibur, and his expression faltered slightly. 

Sophie knew who he was looking for. 

Of course he was. But the damage he had done to that relationship would not be so easily repaired.

With a smile, she leaned over and pressed her lips to Rhian’s cheek. She saw the Captain on the end of the line of Camelot guards tense. 

“May the best man win.” she said. 

* * *

**TASK THE FIRST**

_STRENGTH_ _  
_ TO FIGHT FOR THE KINGDOM

Tedros and Rhian said nothing to one another for the entire journey.

Tedros found that he had nothing to say, to his surprise. Rhian clearly didn’t, either. Petty potshots were useless without a crowd to play to, and there was no use arguing over legitimacy, now. This was the decider. There was nothing to be gained from calling the other man a liar, or a bastard, or a fraud. 

And it wasn’t as if their old relationship could be salvaged. Rhian had seen to that. 

Tedros glanced across. Rhian gazed straight forwards, eyes only visible through the slit in his helmet. As far as Tedros knew, he’d not looked his way once.

They rode on, the Spellcast bubble floating lazily behind them. Presently, they came to an open clearing, several acres wide, surrounded by the banks of an immense lake. Tedros’s eyes narrowed. This felt magically altered, unnatural. 

“This is where I leave you, my lords.” said the herald leading them, turning his horse around. “I wish you luck. Whichever of you slays the creature will win the challenge.”

“Thank you.” said Rhian. Tedros didn’t say anything, scanning the landscape suspiciously. This was clearly going to be a fight, but with _what?_ He half-expected the Lady of the Lake, bald and withered, to burst out of the water.

The herald galloped away, and Tedros slowly put his helmet on, tense with anticipation. They wouldn’t want to wait, so…

He counted down from five, as the herald’s hoofbeats faded. 

Five…

Four...

“There’s something in the water.” said Rhian, hand drifting to Excalibur. “I can hear it.”

Tedros tightened his grip on Benedict’s reins. Three…

It emerged on two. 

There was an immense rumbling noise, like an approaching earthquake, and the surface of the water roiled and jumped, and then--

With a piercing scream, _something_ burst from the depths of the lake, erupting into the open air and spraying water everywhere. 

Rhian’s horse reared, terrified, and even, Benedict, a born and bred knight’s horse, skittered fearfully. More and more of it twisted above the water-- so blue it was almost black, long and sinuous, plated with scales all the way up--

It turned a jagged snout on them and screamed again, exposing rows and rows of knife-point teeth, and finally, Tedros realised. 

_“A wyrm._ ” he spat, watching it loom above the water, thrashing furiously. Goddamn it. Of course. He scrabbled from the saddle and slapped Benedict’s hindquarters. 

“Get out of here! No place for a horse!”

Benedict, thankfully, listened-- nostrils flaring and eyes rolling, he turned and bolted back the way they’d come, as water sloshed over the bank in waves and Rhian struggled to get his horse under control. Not only a wyrm, Tedros realised, but a sea wyrm. Wingless, water-dwelling relatives of the dragons-- more snake than dragon, truly, but they could fly for short periods of time, at low heights, and their preferred weapon was-- 

A jet of boiling water slammed into the ground between them, and Tedros dove sideways, swearing loudly. Of course this is what they chose. Somewhere between snake and dragon, water instead of fire. 

“ _You think this is funny_ ?” he bellowed at the Spellcast orb, then immediately ran for the bank as the dragon sucked in another breath, cursing his choice to wear armour. Either he’d fall in the lake and drown, or be boiled alive in the metal. As for his weapons… he’d have to get close enough to _use_ the damn swords. He should have brought a spear.

He stopped in front of the wyrm’s underbelly, and glanced behind him, where Rhian was running over, having only just dismounted and sent his horse after Benedict.

“How am I supposed to kill _this?”_ he shouted, less to Tedros and more to himself. Tedros, who’d been having the same thought, scowled deeply and cast around for an idea--

The wyrm’s head came sailing towards them, and they launched themselves aside just as it skimmed them, ridged teeth sailing past. With a roar of irritation, it plunged itself into the water on the other side, the rest of the body whipping in between Tedros and Rhian, and disappeared briefly. 

Tedros moved further inland, racking his brains for anything he knew about wyrms. Merlin had mentioned them once. Almost every piece of them was armoured, except for the mouth, but he wasn’t going to be able to stab it in the _throat_ without getting his arm torn off--

_Armoured._

Tedros’s eyes shot down to the swords at his side. He’d put the shattering jinx on Caliburn. Perhaps if he could break the scales… he could stab it. 

Behind them, the wyrm burst from the water once more, and Tedros caught sight of the scales flexing at the base of his head. Weaker than all the rest, but almost impossible to reach…

He caught sight of the fins on its back and gritted his teeth. 

He’d have to get on the wyrm’s _back._

Then he saw Rhian emerging from the water below the wyrm, hefting Excalibur, which he dug under one of the scales on the creatures’ belly and _yanked--_

The wyrm screamed, and Tedros cursed that they’d had the same idea of removing scales.

Then the wyrm’s tail burst from the water and clouted Rhian, sending him flying into a nearby tree. Tedros winced at the metallic crack his armour made, watching Excalibur skitter across the grass, but glanced back at the scale--

It had shifted, slightly, blueish blood oozing up from around it. 

So it was possible. 

Now, how to get onto the thing’s back…

His gaze alighted on the pine tree Rhian was coughing under.

His common sense, a low voice that sounded far too much like Agatha, started shouting at him as he sprinted for the tree, but he didn’t stop.

“Tedros!” shouted Rhian, staggering to his feet as he approached. Tedros looked irritably at him. 

“What do you want?”

“My sword!”

Tedros glanced at Excalibur, lying in the mud. Above them, the wyrm coiled again, preparing to strike.

“NOW!”

Tedros booted Excalibur across the ground. Rhian dived and caught it--

The wyrm lunged and Rhian slashed the blade across its unarmoured nose. Wailing, the wyrm lurched back, spewing blood and steam. Tedros took the opportunity to scramble up the tree closest to the water, trying not to think about the last time he climbed a tree in a fight--

His hand slid and he only just caught himself, his armour slippery from the steam pouring out of the wyrm’s nose. Frustrated, he yanked his helmet off--

The wyrm noticed him and roared, coiling back ready to strike. The snakelike motion made Tedros’s resolve harden. 

This wouldn’t be the first Snake he’d killed. 

He hurled his helmet into the water, and as the wyrm followed the motion, he jumped from the branch. 

It was an undeniably stupid move, and it shouldn’t have worked. 

It worked. 

Tedros landed on the wyrm’s back, knocking the wind from himself, and grabbed onto one of its fins, gasping shallowly. 

The wyrm careened backwards, thrashing madly, trying to turn its head. Somewhere between praying and swearing, Tedros clawed his way up the fins, embedding his feet in the jagged scales, making for the soft patch at the back of the wyrm’s head--

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” bellowed Rhian from down below. The wyrm turned its head sharply to him and Tedros nearly fell off. Wishing Rhian would just disappear, he scaled the final fin and struggled astride the beast’s neck. Rhian made a few more swipes at the wyrm, and the great head surged downwards to meet him, baring its teeth. 

“STOP IT, YOU GIT!” shouted Tedros, struggling to hold on and draw Caliburn at the same time. “YOU’RE NOT GONNA KILL IT LIKE THAT!” 

Rhian ignored him, stabbing furiously at the wyrm’s eyes, but Tedros could tell; he was out of practice. He’d spent months surrounded by guards. There’d been no need for him to even lift a sword, let alone fight. Poor form for a former liege. Whereas _Tedros_ has spent months being kicked around by the Knights, plus the fight at the wedding… it was clear who was in better shape. Still, Rhian was clever--

The wyrm lurched again and Tedros flung himself flat to avoid sliding off. Clever enough to try and make knocking him off the beast’s back look like an accident.

Bastard. 

Rhian was knocked backwards again, jarring his sword arm, and Tedros took the opportunity. He clamped his hand around Caliburn, drew it, positioning it towards the scales, and struck. 

With a crack like shattering rock, the scales broke and slipped apart, revealing a tiny sliver of skin at the back of the head, just enough for the blade--

The wyrm howled and arched back, and Tedros was thrown almost completely off, only catching himself with one hand--

Caliburn slipped from his sword hand and tumbled, blade down, to embed itself into the sodden mud and grass below, quivering slightly. Spitting curses, Tedros put his other hand on the fin and struggled back onto the wyrm’s flank as the creature whipped back and forth, desperately looking for its assailant. Tedros yanked his Akgul sword out, positioned it over the exposed skin--

Rhian got desperate.

“TEDROS! HOW CLOSE DID SHE COME TO DYING, HUH?” 

Tedros jolted and lost concentration, the beast’s head lashed towards Rhian and expelled a blast of boiling water, and Tedros’s sword came down just as he was knocked off the wyrm’s back and into the lake.

Somehow, he didn’t drown.

He landed just close enough to the bank to be able to stand, but it was at the cost of jarring pretty much every joint in his body when he hit the lake floor.

Heaving, he staggered upright, coughing furiously--

And immediately had to throw himself out of the way as the wyrm smashed into the water next to him. 

He scrabbled backwards up the bank, eyes wide, as the wyrm thrashed madly, screeching and spraying boiling water everywhere-- 

And blood. 

Tedros’s eyes snapped up to the Akgul sword, buried firmly at the base of the wyrms head, as the thing gargled and convulsed, spewing blood and foam, almost as if it was… coughing?

Then he remembered the properties of the poison imbued in the blade. 

_“Kills you, but makes it look like either cholera or tuberculosis.”_

Clearly that dose had been the correct amount for tuberculosis. Far too much, in fact.

With a rattling howl, the wyrm lunged forwards--

And kept toppling, until it crashed into the water, great head smashing into the mud, and was still. Blood and foam leaked from its jaws.

Slowly, Tedros scraped to his feet and went to pull the sword from its head, tentatively avoiding the jaws in case it was not as dead as it appeared. 

“My thanks to the Wardwells.” he said weakly, carefully wiping the blade on his cloak and returning it to his scabbard. Water sloshing in his boots, every bone aching, he turned--

And saw Rhian standing behind him.

And remembered why he’d fallen off the damn thing in the first place. 

Rhian barely had time to say anything before Tedros punched him in the face, knocking him into the mud and cutting his face with the jagged surface of the metal gauntlet. 

“I DIDN’T MEAN IT LIKE THAT!” he barked, scrabbling backwards.   
“I’D BE FASCINATED TO KNOW HOW YOU _DID_ MEAN IT!” bellowed Tedros, aiming a kick at his head which only just missed. Rhian leapt to his feet, casting around for some way to defend himself, ducking another swing--

He caught sight of Caliburn buried in the ground nearby.

He lunged for it, grabbed the hilt, yanked--

It didn’t move. 

It should have moved. It was in mud, not buried particularly deeply. 

It did not. 

Rhian visibly reddened, and pulled again. And again.

“Stupid mud.” he spat. 

“Not the mud, is it?” said Tedros sweetly. Rhian ignored him, pulling harder, digging his feet into the wet ground, heaving as hard as he could. 

It was starting to rain. Tedros stood and watched him strain, feeling savagely satisfied by the similarities to the scenarios Rhian had put him in, months earlier... 

But wasn’t quite as amusing as he’d expected it to be. 

It got pathetic fast. 

Tedros stalked forward and shouldered Rhian out of the way, grabbing his face before he could fall and pulling them nose-to-nose. 

“Try and goad me like that again,” he said softly. “And you’re returning to Four Point in that many pieces. You understand?”

Rhian glanced desperately at the Spellcast orb, but it didn’t move, floating languidly above them with no indication that there was going to be an intervention. 

“Whatever.” he said harshly, pulling out of Tedros’s grip. Tedros let him, turning to pull Caliburn from the ground and taking it to the lakeside so he could wash the mud off it. 

“Maybe you can win the next one without cheating.” he said, sloshing water up the blade. 

Rhian, who’d been watching him pull Caliburn, suddenly looked alarmed as he realised what Tedros meant-- 

* * *

Back at Four Point, Agatha sighed as the dragon banner was unfurled in the first space.

“Thank god.”

She’d managed to leave nail marks in Sophie’s hand, for how hard she’d squeezed her when Tedros had been thrown off the back of the wyrm.

Now, huddled together under Sophie’s cloak on the Tintagel dais, Agatha glanced at her sister.

“What do you think?”

“Rhian was out of practice.” said Sophie slowly, trying to look displeased for the Spellcast and mostly failing. “Teddy was always going to win that one. Smarts can only get you so far, and he’s not good enough at magic or swordplay to be able to win with that.”

“Unlike him to not practice.” said Hester. 

“Not really.” said Sophie, examining her nails. “I’m very… _distracting.”_

Nicola looked displeased.

“Savvy of him to thank us.” said Eris, sitting at Agatha’s feet. “Our family has a lot of influence over Never politics, so if everyone knows we’re on his side… might be inclined to vote for him.”

“The Wardwells are sounding more and more like a mafia.” said Hester.

“We are, essentially.” said Eris.

“Cool.”

* * *

**TASK THE SECOND**   
_WISDOM_

TO MAKE DECISIONS ON BEHALF OF THE KINGDOM

They didn’t have to walk very far to encounter the second task.

Just on the other side of the trees behind the lake, a sphinx waited for them.

“Riddles?” demanded Tedros, immediately realising what they wanted. “This isn’t _wisdom._ This is subjective.”

“All intelligence is subjective.” said Rhian, slowly sitting on a log on the other side of the clearing. 

“Shut up.” said Tedros, flinging himself down on a tree stump. What he didn’t say was: _we both know you’re going to win, anyway.”_

He put his elbows on his knees and dropped his chin into his palm. At least he could admit it to himself. They both knew that Rhian was far cleverer than he was, even if he was a git. 

The Sphinx swished her tail, but her face was coolly neutral. Tedros was beginning to find a cruel sense of humour in whoever was providing these beasts. First a snakelike dragon, now a woman with the body of a winged lion. 

“Three riddles.” she said. “Whoever guesses the majority correctly will be the victor. You have three guesses for each riddle.”

“Will you eat us if we’re wrong?” grumbled Tedros. 

“That would not allow you to proceed to the third trial, son of Arthur.”

Rhian cut in. 

“Would you give us the first one?”

The Sphinx bowed her head. 

_“I have a heart that never beats, I have a home but I never sleep. I can take a man's house and build another’s, and I love to play games with my many brothers. I am a king among fools. Who am I?”_

Tedros groaned. Why couldn’t Agatha have taken this trial instead of him? Or Ravan. Or anyone. He’d been infamously bad at these as a child. Merlin had given up on giving them to him. How could someone have a heart that didn’t beat, unless they were dead? Maybe that was the answer. Probably not, though. 

It was hard to focus. He thought he’d cracked a rib in the fall from the wyrm, and his armour was chafing pretty much everywhere, wet as it was. His hands were bloody and raw from where he’d clung onto the fins. The only small solace was that Rhian didn’t look much better-- bruised and bleeding from where Tedros had punched him, limping from where he’d been thrown into the tree. On equal ground in that sense, at least--

“The King of Hearts in a deck of cards.” said Rhian, suddenly. 

The sphinx inclined her head. 

“Correct.”

Tedros swore. He’d barely even started thinking about it, and Rhian had gotten it already? On the first guess, nonetheless? Definitely a lost cause. Whatever this last task was, he was going to have to win it.

“How’d you get that?” he demanded.

Rhian glanced at him.

“Does it matter?”

Tedros shrugged irritably. 

“Just curious.”

Rhian looked oddly at him for a second. 

“The house line.” he said finally. “I realised it meant a house of cards. Then I linked it to the idea of games, and the heart, and so on, and knew I was right.”

“Ah.” Tedros frowned. “I was thinking too literally.”

Rhian didn’t seem to know what to say to that, and just turned back to the sphinx in silence. 

“The second riddle is this.” said the sphinx. “ _Someone seen never by God, seldom by the king, and every day by most.”_

“Theme developing here, isn’t there?” sighed Tedros. Kings. Typical. Somehow, though, he didn’t think it had much to do with the actual answer. 

Both the sphinx and Rhian ignored him. Rhian was already frowning, working through it. Tedros sat back slightly, trying to stamp down his frustration. Never seen by God? Probably best not to think too deeply into that one. Seldom by the king... 

“The ordinary man.” said Rhian. Tedros tensed--

“Incorrect.” said the sphinx. Rhian grimaced. Tedros let out his breath. He still had time to get this. 

He glanced across at Rhian, who was reddening, frustrated. They were far too similar in some ways. Rhian probably didn’t think that, and a few months ago, Tedros would have scorned it, too, but it was true. Rhian bested him in some places, Tedros bested _him_ in others, but overall they were almost completely equally weighted. Tedros was the better knight and Rhian the better politician, Tedros unable to conceal his true thoughts and Rhian a born liar, and yet--

This trial wasn’t going to work.

It came to him suddenly, the thought surfacing fully realised. It wasn’t _really_ based on strength, wisdom, or honour. It was luck. There was no way to fully evaluate it. Unless someone forfeited, whoever won would be luckier, not superior. This was a show, to entertain the nervous people of the Woods. But, behind the curtain... 

They were too equal.

It pained Tedros to admit it, but it was true. Had he been facing Japeth, it would have been a different story. He would have felt no kinship to Japeth. He _had_ felt none. But Rhian and Tedros were too close to equals for comfort. Two sides of the same coin, brothers or not. How rare, to encounter two similar candidates for King--

Tedros bolted upright. _Seldom seen by the king!_

He turned to the sphinx. Rhian’s head jerked towards him.

“An equal.” Tedros said. “The answer is an equal.”

Even as he said it, he wasn’t sure he was right--

But the sphinx inclined her head. Rhian stared at him. Tedros thought he was probably wondering if he’d been lying about struggling with these, but he hadn’t. It had just sort of… come to him.

“Your final riddle.” said the sphinx. Rhian sat up straight, clearly intending to win this one. Tedros frowned, wondering what it would be.

“ _The cost of making only the maker knows, Valueless if bought, but sometimes traded. A poor man may give one as easily as a king. When one is broken, pain and deceit are assured. What is it?”_

It wasn’t even a competition.

Rhian got it right away. 

“A promise.” he said quietly. “It’s a promise.”

“Yes,” said the sphinx. “A promise.”

Tedros swallowed. He’d known he wasn’t going to win this task, but now he and Rhian were neck to neck, it felt more real. Equals or not, one of them had to win. 

And he intended for it to be him. 

Rhian looked back at the Spellcast orb, briefly. He didn’t revel in his victory. He didn’t even smile. If Tedros didn’t know better, he’d say he looked sad. Desperately sad, in fact.

Tedros wondered how many promises he’d broken. 

“We’ve both won one, now.” Tedros said, uncomfortably trying to draw his attention back to the trial.

Rhian glanced at him. 

“Yes.” he said. “So we have.”

* * *

  
**TASK THE THIRD**

_HONOUR_

TO BE TRUSTED BY THE KINGDOM

The third task required them to split up.

“Where do they go?” asked Tedros, staring at the two identical cave mouths in front of them. 

“I don’t know.” said Rhian. “I suppose we’ll find out.”

Tedros frowned suspiciously. He didn’t like the feel of this. Separating them and putting them in a confined space...

“Well,” he said. “Best get on with it.”

“Yeah.”

Tedros waited for Rhian to move. 

He did not. 

Hoping he was losing his nerve, Tedros forged forwards for the left cave, trying not to let Rhian’s weirdly melancholy mood affect him--

“I’d heard that riddle before.” said Rhian suddenly.

Tedros turned. 

“That’s how I got it.” said Rhian. “They used to make us repeat it all the time, at Arbed.”

Even when they’d been friends, Rhian had never mentioned his schooling. 

“Oh.” said Tedros. He didn’t know what else to say. “That was lucky.” 

They stood facing one another for a moment. Tedros found himself compelled to say something, though he wasn’t sure what. What do you say to your ex-liege who’s spent months baying for your blood, the moment before one of you is to be chosen as King? _Good luck?_ He didn’t particularly wish him luck. 

No, there was nothing to say.

Tedros turned and walked into the cave. 

This time, he saw Rhian go into the other one. 

* * *

It was pitch black, but oddly dry and spacious. Suspecting another magically created setting, Tedros paced slowly into the darkness, listening to his armour clinking on the rock, the daylight from the mouth slowly fading until it disappeared completely. The very faint glow of the Spellcast orb, which had split into two to follow both of them, was the only light source.

He wasn’t sure how this was going to be related to a test of honour. There was nothing around. No light, no sounds, no deviation from this long tunnel…

But it was going down.

He slowed, wary, as the tunnel dipped, the ceiling lowering so he had to stoop, shuffling down the incline--

He stumbled out into a huge cavern, too big to be lit by the Spellcast orb, stretching off into ambiguity and dark corners. Immediately on guard, Tedros put his hand on Caliburn. Was this to be another fight? It was certainly big enough for it. But somehow, he didn’t think they’d do the same challenge twice... 

A rushing sound, and something shot past his ear. Tedros spun, trying to track it, but either it was already concealed in the darkness or it had never been visible in the first pla--

_“Tedros Pendragon.”_

It was so loud that Tedros felt the reverberations in his chest. Clamping his hands over his screeching ears, he stared around, wondering what the _hell_ the idiots on the Kingdom Council thought they were doing. Were they trying to kill them? How did this _this_ test honour--

_“What secrets do you have, son of Arthur?”_

It was a little quieter now, but no less powerful. Slowly, Tedros lowered his hands to his swords.

...secrets?  
And then it made sense. 

_This_ was the real test. The Kingdom Council trying to sift through the nebulous web of Truth and Lies that this conflict had become entangled in, straining to reach the real story. Tedros didn’t know what kind of magic this was, but he knew it was strong, could sense it pulsing through the cave. They were doing everything they could to discover the truth.

Secrets. 

_Secrets._

For a moment, he stood still.

Then Tedros laughed. Laughed himself breathless.

They were practically handing it to him. He, who had been humiliated and exposed, his biggest secret revealed in front of everyone, he who had tried to tell the truth and had been shouted down…

It occurred to him that he should answer.

“None which are unknown.” said Tedros, trying to catch his breath. “At which point, they cease to be secrets. So, none. None which matter.”

_“I see your heart, and your mind.”_ said the voice. _“It would be unwise, and dishonourable, to lie.”_

Tedros’s mirth faded.

“Then you should see that I speak true.” he said coolly, straightening up. 

The voice did not respond. Anger sparked in Tedros’s chest. 

“No. I am many things. Impetuous and rash, maybe. Aggressive, perhaps. Foolish and hard-headed, yes. I was a coward, overcome by my insecurity. This I know, and I tell it to you. I am a Never. I am _Evil._ I was driven out of my own Kingdom for it. But I am not a liar. You will _not_ accuse me of being dishonourable!”

“ _You will be tested.”_

“Test me, then.” spat Tedros. 

No response. Tedros thought it lightened slightly. And then--

Before him was the statue of Arthur from King’s Cove, eyes gouged out and empty. Tedros gritted his teeth--

Then it fell forward, shattering just in front of him, spraying white marble everywhere. He leapt back-- then heard metal hitting stone, and looked down to see an iron crown lying on its side on the floor.

It had changed into the statue of his father he’d broken in Tintagel. 

Was he supposed to be _sorry_ for that?   
He came forward and picked up the iron crown he’d worn in the fortress. He paused for a second, then put it aside carefully.

“I don’t see how this is supposed to be secret.” he said. “When I was upset, I defiled images of my father. Not always on purpose, but I don’t regret it. I reject him.”

“ _You would reject me?”_

Tedros closed his eyes briefly. 

“Cute trick.” he said. 

_“I asked you a question, boy.”_

It was painfully realistic. For a moment, Tedros felt nine years old again. 

The he said;

“I wish to honour the kings who came before him. Not _just_ my father. I staked my entire claim on him, on proving I was his son, and look where it got me. Still fighting for my throne. I need more than his blood.”

_“Address me properly, boy.”_

Tedros ignored the reprimand. This wasn’t Arthur.

“I spent my whole life trying to be him.”

_“You were noble, then.”_

“I was scared. Scared I was unable to live up to his legacy. Frightened of what would happen if I didn’t. Now I know it’s better to reject it entirely, to ensure I can’t lean on it. I don’t need it. I shouldn’t need it.”

“ _You do._ _It is your bloodright.”_

“If Rhian, a bastard at best and deluded at worst, can be in the same competition as me... I feel that my bloodright is less important than it would seem.” snapped Tedros.

“ _You are ungrateful.”_

“Ungrateful?” spluttered Tedros, losing his temper, and his attempt to not address the voice directly. “ _This is all your fault!_ You were warned that marrying out of duty could yield a Never child, and you didn’t listen! And when it _happened,_ you tried to cover it up. You lied and frauded and bribed and you didn’t even bother attempting to be a good father whilst you did it. You could have helped me. Instead, you set me up to fail. You _ensured_ I paid for your mistakes. I don’t care if you meant for this to happen. It happened because of your obsession with yourself. Your reputation.”

Still damp and cold and bruised, with broken ribs and bloody hands and every bone aching, the whole Woods watching, Tedros shouted it again, like he had at Tintagel;

_“YOU DID THIS TO ME!”_

His voice echoed around the cavern. 

Silence. 

“I cannot change the fact that you are my father. I loved you, and I admired you.” said Tedros, trying to rein himself back in. “And I cannot change my birthright. I will be King, because it is my duty. But I resent you for curbing me in every way you could, to defend your own reputation. You could have changed everything. Helped me. Instead, you had me humiliated and usurped. Coward I may have been, but no matter how bad I was, I didn’t know better. _You should have._ ”

Again, silence. The voice said nothing. 

“And if you’re going to try and goad me with my father’s voice, you could at least do it with the man who did more parenting.” hissed Tedros. 

A pause. 

Then;

“ _Interesting_.” said Lancelot’s voice. 

“Are we done, here?” demanded Tedros. 

_“No rest for the wicked, boy.”_

“Shut up.” sighed Tedros, glancing around the cavern. There were images moving, on the fringes of the cave. They kept changing. 

Tedros paced closer, recognising himself. Stalked by Aric, stood with Filip in the Blue Forest, hunched over Agatha in the back of the wagon from the wedding… they flipped so fast it was almost impossible to focus on them. As if they were skimming through his consciousness, looking for something they could use, anything…

“Good luck with that.” said Tedros. “I told you. None that matter.”

They flipped faster--

Then stopped, and shut off.

Tedros stood, waiting for something else. Nothing came. He turned in a circle, wondering if that was the end, or whether he needed to do something else…

Somewhere in the cave, someone shouted.

Tedros turned, startled. On the other side of the cavern, by the sound of it… and it was definitely Rhian. 

He hadn’t realised he was so close. 

Slowly, he turned and started making his way towards the other side of the cavern. No one shouted again, but there was a certain scuffling, possibly...

There was another tunnel, opposite the one he’d come through. Rhian hadn’t gotten as far as the cavern, then. 

Why?

Tedros paused outside the tunnel, wondering if he ought to go in...

When he did, he stepped into a secret. 

* * *

“You’re obsessed.” said Kei. He was younger, here, less cruel-faced, dressed in the uniform of Arbed House. “I want out.”

“You don’t believe me?” demanded the younger Rhian, incredulous. 

“I--” Kei looked around helplessly. “I don’t know if I believe you. But I know that _your_ belief in it is changing you.”

Tedros glanced around, and found that the older Rhian was standing nearby, face white and tense. 

“You don’t mean that.” said the younger Rhian desperately. “It’s true!”

“I don’t care if it’s true.”

Rhian’s face darkened. Became uglier. 

“So you’re just going to abandon me?”

“I want you to give this up.” said Kei. “I want out. I don’t want to leave you, but--”

“This is my birthright!” spat Rhian. “And you want me to _give it up?_ **”**

“This is what I mean!” cried Kei. “You’re getting obsessive!”

“You’re _betraying me!_ **”**

Kei backed away. 

“Rhian, listen--”

“Go.” said Rhian harshly. “I’m not giving this up for anyone.”

Kei’s face went slack. 

“But--”

He seemed to summon his resolve, and straightened. 

“Fine.” he said. “I’m not going with this crazy plan. Not even for you.”

Rhian watched him go with cold eyes--

“Maybe I’ll become a Camelot guard.” said Kei loudly, from the doorway. “For King Tedros.”

Rhian didn’t react, for a second. Kei turned and stalked out of the door--

“YOU’LL COME CRAWLING BACK!” Rhian shouted after him, suddenly crazed. “WHEN MY PLAN WORKS, YOU’LL COME AND GROVEL AT MY FEET!”

Kei turned.

“If I do,” he said venomously. “Know that it will be with the aim of bringing you down.”

He slammed the door shut. 

The scene dissolved. 

So this was the infamous _betrayal_ , Tedros realised. Kei had been doubtful from the very beginning of the plot. 

He glanced over at Rhian, but he didn’t seem to have noticed him, staring at the spot where the younger Kei had been standing--

Then the scene reformed. 

The Rhian here was a double of the one that stood with him, the only difference being that his armour was pristine instead of dented and bloodied. This had to have been today. 

They stood outside of a room in Camelot’s castle, the door ajar, as the earlier Rhian listened to a conversation inside.

“You double-crossing snake.” Kei’s voice hissed. “I heard you and Agatha questioning Tedros with my own ears, and you have the audacity to tell me that when I do the exact same thing, I don’t love him?”

“That’s not what I said.” replied Sophie’s voice. 

A pause.

“It doesn’t matter.” Kei snapped. “What matters is that I know you’re trying to set him up to fail--”

“And I know that it was you who told Tedros the allegations in the first place.”

Outside, Rhian jerked like he’d been shocked. The current Rhian watched, white-faced and tense. 

Kei’s shadow shifted, and Rhian crept away from the door.

“You don’t understand.” Kei said.

“I don’t.” said Sophie. “Enlighten me as to how actively working to have him overthrown proves any kind of love.”

“I don’t want Rhian to win. He’s not the same. The power is getting to him. He’s become obsessive with it, obsessed with winning over Tedros, obsessed with proving himself and getting to rule and getting everyone to love him…”

Tedros stopped listening, looking over at the two Rhians-- one flattened against the wall expressions struggling as he strained to listen, one stood stock-still in his ruined armour. Kei’s doubts had finally resurfaced, and within earshot of Rhian? Sophie had done this on purpose, he knew it. 

Kei’s voice rose, and Tedros tuned back in as Rhian shifted, looking as if he was considering entering the room.

“--I thought, if Tedros won, Rhian might have a chance of regaining himself. But if he wins, and it’s proven later that his father is Rafal…”

A flash of real, brutal anger crossed the earlier Rhian’s face and he finally made his decision, stalking over to the door and wrenching it open. 

“ _Proven_ , Kei?”

Tedros shifted forwards to try and see inside, but the current Rhian didn’t move.

“Proven.” hissed earlier Rhian, stalking over to Kei and Sophie. “You, of all people, believe Tedros’s lies? And not only that, you fed them to him? I should have known. You betrayed me once before. I always knew you would do it again. I was a fool to give you a second chance--”

A hand clamped down on Tedros’s shoulder and shoved him.

“Trying to sabotage me?” the current Rhian spat, looking rather wild. “How long have you been here? Can’t you leave me alone?”

“I noticed the passage.” Tedros spluttered, trying to regain his footing. “I didn’t know how to get out--”

“And you came to sabotage me, did you?” barked Rhian, reddening. “Kill me?”

“What? No! Not a fair game if one of us dies, is it, bastard--?”

Rhian hit him, and Tedros collided with the cave wall, the illusion flickering madly. 

“WHAT’S YOUR PROBLEM?”

“DON’T EVER CALL ME THAT!”

“ _Oh_.” Tedros hauled himself upright, clutching his smarting cheek. “Oh, I see. Getting insecure, are you?”

“Fuck off!”

Raised voices came from the room. 

Tedros turned towards it, but Rhian shoved him again. Tedros elbowed him away and dove inside, just in time to see Rhian clutching Kei furiously, Sophie looking on, apparently calmly. But Tedros recognised the expression-- the gleam in her gaze and the slight tilt of her head. 

The face she wore when she knew she was winning. 

“After this tournament,” Rhian said. “I will no longer require your services.”

“...what?” 

“I am relieving you of your duties. You may return to your mother and sister in Foxwood.”

“You’re... firing me? Rhian. No, Rhian, you can’t--”

“You will be given an honourable discharge once I have _won the Trial of Kings_.” said Rhian. “I’d say that Tedros would offer you a job, but you betrayed him first. Perhaps you can go and work somewhere where trust is not a requirement.”

“You’re choosing her.” said Kei in disbelief. “Over me. Her.”

Rhian didn’t respond, letting go of him and holding his arm out to Sophie--

The current Rhian bulled inside and grabbed Tedros again. 

“Get out, reprobate!”

“You fired him?” demanded Tedros, ignoring the command and the insult. “He’s all you have left!”

“I have my Queen.” snarled Rhian. Tedros turned to him, incredulous.

“Sophie? You think _you_ have Sophie? _Rhian_. No one has Sophie. I didn’t, Hort didn’t, Rafal didn’t, and you _certainly_ don’t. You’re a goddamned fool if you think she’s on your side. The only side she’s on is her own.”

“You’re just jealous she loves me.” hissed Rhian, as the earlier version of him offered Sophie his arm. 

“I’m definitely not.” snorted Tedros. “The only person she loves is Agatha, and even then she’s loath to show it.”

Rhian’s expression wavered slightly. 

“Rhian.” said Kei behind them. “Rhian, you can’t do this. Don’t be a fool--”

Hr rushed forward and grabbed his shoulder. The earlier Rhian turned on Kei, face so wrathful that Tedros, for a second, could only see Japeth. He shoved him away, so hard that he knocked the other man into the wall.

“What’s your problem?” Tedros demanded of the current Rhian, as the old one snarled out behind him;

“ _Traitor_.”

Kei’s face crumpled--

Rhian shoved Tedros, Tedros hit him back, they grappled against the wall--

The scene changed, and behind them, a child started to wail. 

Both Tedros and Rhian turned, confused.

Rhian went completely still. 

They were in a dark, dank room, with a single bed, rickety chair, and wash-basin the only furniture. In the bed lay Evelyn Sader, bloodied and slick with sweat, clutching two babies-- clearly newborn twins. Three old midwives were clustered around her.  
Rhian and Japeth. 

Tedros came closer to get a better look. Behind him, Rhian didn’t move. 

“What will you name them?”

Tedros jumped as the icy voice echoed from the corner, and whirled to find--

“Rafal.” said one of the midwives. 

“Brother.” said another.

Tedros recoiled as he realised who they were-- the Mistral Sisters. They were Rafal’s _sisters?_ So there had been five siblings; Rafal, the Good Brother-- the original Rhian-- Alpa, Bethna and Omeida. How had that been kept quiet? How had Arthur not known they were related to the School Master? 

Well, he probably had. No wonder he’d thought them good choices. That line-- this _Mistral_ line-- clearly produced powerful sorcerers. 

Wait. 

Rafal was here. 

That meant that--

“I will name them to honour their heritage.” said Evelyn. 

Rafal’s face soured, but he said nothing.

Evelyn smiled at him, tight lipped. Clearly, she knew he would object. 

“Rafal Japeth,” she said, indicating the paler boy. “After his father and grandfather.”

“After Japeth Sader? You don’t care for your father, Evelyn.”

“I imagine he won’t care for his, either,” said Evelyn smoothly. “Absent as he will be.”

Rafal ignored the dig. 

“And the other boy?”

“Rhian August.”

Rafal looked cooly at the children, no real emotion on his face.

“After the despised brothers of ours.”

“That’s right.”

“You are a foolish woman. He will be ill-fated.”

Evelyn sneered at him. 

“He will be _powerful_. Sader, Mistral… the two most ancient Woods families. It won’t be hard to believe that they are also members of the third. Rhian will be named after two of the most famous Good figures in the Woods. That is something that Arthur would approve of.”

“You intend to go along with this, then? To pass them off as sons of Arthur? He will dispute it.”

“By the time they will reveal themselves,” said Evelyn. “Arthur will be long dead. August has foreseen it.”

“How can he have told you?”

“He didn’t.” said Evelyn. “But he’s not so hard to work out. He worries about Arthur and allies himself with Camelot. He knows it will be thrown into chaos, soon. The only person standing in their way will be Guinevere’s child. And his claim will be fragile.”

“The boy is doomed to be Evil.” cackled Alpa. “We all know this.”

“We do.” said Evelyn. “Arthur does not.”

“He does.” said Rafal, coming forward to look closer at the children. “But he refuses to accept it. A foolish man. It will be his downfall. I expect he will come crawling to me for help, soon enough.”

He looked down at the paler baby. 

“This... Rafal Japeth. You are treading on dangerous ground.”

“He will go by RJ, or his middle name.”

“That is not what I mean. I sense something in him. Dangerous.”

“Are you surprised?” scoffed Evelyn. 

“No.” said Rafal. “But I would be wary. Favour the other boy as the champion. He is less volatile.”

“Will you tell them?” asked Bethna. “That it is a lie?”

“Do not.” said Rafal sharply. “Let them believe it. If they think even for a second that they might fail, they will. Believing it wholeheartedly is much easier. The rags to riches story… it has always been compelling.”

“You’d know all about stories, wouldn’t you?” snorted Omeida. Rafal barely spared his sister a glance.

“I would.” he said. “And theirs will need to be very, very convincing.”

The scene dissolved. 

Tedros looked around for the current Rhian, but before he could locate him, the scene had reformed.

Evelyn Sader was knelt behind a building with a much younger Japeth. 

“You may not tell him.” she was hissing. “You will have no chance of ultimate power if Rhian knows the truth. He will fail.”

It was clear from his face that Japeth resented his mother, but his face shifted slightly at the idea.

“Maybe I want him to fail.” he said, nonetheless spiteful.

“If he fails, you will be imprisoned at best and killed at worst. You must keep this secret.”

Japeth looked ready to argue--

Evelyn appealed to his worst nature. 

“You will hold all the cards.” she said in a low voice, looking like she was regretting it even as she said it. “You need Rhian-- he is charismatic and will manipulate his way up. But you have your magic, and that knowledge _\--_ what’s to say you can’t overthrow him, once he is on the throne?”

Japeth’s young face became savage, and Tedros knew the appeal had worked--

“Mother?” The young Rhian appeared around the side of the wall. “What are you talking about?”

Evelyn smiled at him.

“Your brother has been bullying the neighbour's son again.” she said, the lie coming easily. “We were having a talk.”

Rhian looked at Japeth, who scowled at him, so convincingly that Tedros shuddered. 

When Rhian turned away, the scowl turned into a smile--

The scene changed again. 

“So,” said Japeth, this time the age Tedros had known him at, in his snakeskin suit. “You came crawling back.”

Kei said nothing. They stood in a forest clearing, almost pitch black save the torch Kei held. 

“I misjudged him.” said Kei. “He has accepted my apology.”

“Yes, he has.” said Japeth. “But I will tell you something.”

Kei waited--

“You were right.” said Japeth. 

“What?”

“Right to doubt him.”

Kei’s face hardened. 

“You won’t trick me into being disloyal again.”

Japeth smiled thinly.

“I am not trying to trick you into anything. But you ought to know.”

“Know _what--?”_

“We’re not Arthur’s sons.”

Kei went still.

“...what?”

“Don’t pretend to be shocked, Kei. You know our mother was obsessed with the School Master. You know my name is Rafal, and he is named after the Good Brother. Our father is Rafal Mistral, not Arthur Pendragon. We have no claim.”

“But--” Kei floundered for a second. “Rhian is lying?”

“Oh, no.” said Japeth slyly. “He believes it. He doesn’t know the truth. My mother didn’t tell him-- only me. He has to believe it, you see. Else we’ll fail.”

“He… you can’t--” Kei looked desperately back at the distant lights of the camp. 

“Pick your poison, Kei.” said Japeth, looking cruelly amused. “Reject him again, and lose him forever. Or follow him, knowing that he will eventually be exposed as a fraud. It’s your choice.”

He brushed past him and headed back to the camp, leaving Kei white-faced and shocked in the clearing--

The illusion dissolved completely, and Tedros was back in the dark cave, stunned.

It was true, then. He really was the only legitimate heir. Rhian had been exposed completely-- probably even more thoroughly than Tedros had seen, through previous secrets he’d missed. Exposed as a liar, a fraud, a fake--

And dishonourable. 

“It can’t be true.”

Tedros turned.

Rhian stood in the centre of the hall, grey and clammy. 

“It can’t be.” Rhian repeated numbly. 

“Lying to us seems to be a trend in our fathers.” said Tedros. “Guess we’re not brothers after all.”

Silence. Rhian’s mouth was shaking. 

“We were, once.” he said. 

Tedros sighed, suspecting it was going to take Rhian a good long time to get over this. He thought he should probably feel victorious, but he didn’t. He just felt tired. This was too familiar. This was meant to be the triumphant end, his justice at last, but… it wasn’t. 

“Taste of your own medicine, isn’t it?” he said wearily. Rhian didn’t respond. 

Tedros looked up at the Spellcast orb, wondering what was supposed to happen, now. He was slightly wary of Rhian. Perhaps he’d suddenly fly off the handle, or try to attack him, or manipulate him, or--

There was a thud, and Tedros turned, hand flying to his sword--

Rhian fell to his knees before him, mumbling something almost inaudible.

Almost. 

“I forfeit.” 

Tedros stared at him, sure he’d misheard. 

“What?”

“I forfeit.” 

“You can’t do--”

“I, Rhian Mistral, surrender my challenge of Camelot’s throne and accept Tedros Pendragon as my King.”

It was almost comic. Tedros stood, incredulous, and Rhian hunched at his feet, both men bruised and beaten in dented armour. After all this, this entire endeavour, Rhian was just going to give up?

But Tedros knew what it was to be misled.

“ _Claimants,”_ said the voice suddenly, finally piping up. “ _Please exit.”_

Rhian didn’t move, still hunched on the floor. Tedros hesitated. 

“Rhian--”

“Get out.” croaked Rhian. 

“We both have to leave.” said Tedros. 

“You think I want to go back out there?” hissed Rhian. “To them? To _her?”_

“You have to.”

“I told you to get out.”

“I--”

_“GET OUT!_ ” screamed Rhian, mottling an ugly purple. “GET OUT, GET OUT--” 

He scrabbled for Excalibur.

Tedros turned and fled.

He ran down the tunnel once again, ducked back into the large cavern and found, this time, a break in the rock, large enough for him to get through.

There was a rumbling behind him, and when he turned to look, he realised Rhian hadn’t followed. Confused, he hovered for a second--

“ _Exit.”_ snapped the voice, clearly impatient with his dithering. 

Reluctantly, Tedros stepped outside into the cool night. They were on a hill, with a lake far below--

The rumbling got louder, followed by the sound of something heavy falling, echoing through the tunnels. 

Tedros froze, one foot still in the cave. Why hadn’t Rhian followed him? He’d assumed he’d follow at a distance behind, even though he was upset… 

Another boom. What was wrong with the cave? It sounded almost as if it was--

As if it was collapsing. 

The rock shook. More booms echoed--

And Rhian screamed. 

There was no reason Tedros should turn back for him. He was a liar, a manipulator, selfish, murderous and had made Tedros’s life hell for the last year. There was no denying that Tedros hated him.

But he was also seventeen, a pawn in Rafal’s game, and he was probably going to die if Tedros left him in there. 

They were brothers, once. 

“Shit.” said Tedros. “ _Shit_.”

He turned and ran back into the cave.

“ _LEAVE HIM!_ ” bellowed the voice, but Tedros ignored it, sprinting across the shaking cavern and scrabbling back into the tunnel--

Barely avoiding being flattened by a descending chunk of rock. 

Tedros flung himself back against the wall, shocked, as the tunnel shook and collapsed inwards, the voice screaming at him;

“ _BREACH OF PROTOCOL! BREACH OF THE RULES! GET OUT_!”

“WHAT DID YOU EXPECT?” Tedros bellowed back at it, furious. “I’M A NEVER!”  
“Tedros!” cried Rhian from somewhere further down. 

Spitting all the curses he knew, Tedros rushed towards him, scrabbling over fallen rocks, sliced on the neck and face by shards being knocked from the ceiling--

Rhian was lying on the floor, pinned down by a huge chunk of stone on his left leg. Blood was seeping from below it. Tedros knelt over him.

“The hell is this? What did you do?”

“Nothing!” sobbed Rhian. “It just started collapsing! Don’t leave me to die.” he begged, clawing at Tedros’s knees. “I don’t want to die like this, please--”

He was rapidly becoming more incoherent. Tedros stood, wondering how the hell he was supposed to move this rock--

His hand caught the swords at his belt.

“Stay still.” he said to Rhian, but it was largely unnecessary-- he was barely conscious. Teeth clenched, Tedros drew Caliburn and swung it at the piece of stone, hoping it worked on things other than armour--

It shattered like glass, spraying shards everywhere. Tedros hastily resheathed the sword, relieved, and knelt to haul Rhian over his shoulder, hoping he could carry him all the way without injuring or killing them both. 

Everything shook harder as he staggered down the hall, Tedros struggling to keep his footing as stones clattered around him. He was going to have to crouch to get back into the cavern, which might overbalance him…

The gleam of light caught his eye, and Tedros noticed a long crack at the end of the tunnel, in a similar place to the one in the cavern. If he could break through that, surely they’d end up in the same place?

As he got closer, Tedros lost confidence in the idea. There was no guarantee he’d be right, and the cavern was probably safer--

He turned back just as a huge chunk of rock fell from the roof and smashed into the floor, blocking their way and knocking them both sprawling onto the floor from the impact, dust billowing everywhere. 

Oh, Tedros was going to _kill_ the Kingdom Council.

Seething, he propped a semi-conscious Rhian against the wall and swung Caliburn for the crack, praying it opened onto the hill--

After the dust cleared, he peered over the edge. 

It didn’t.

Open sky, sheer cliffs, and, far below, black water. 

For a minute, Tedros considered letting them get crushed. Might be faster. 

Then, more shaking and falling rocks, and Tedros looked desperately down at the water again, knowing falling from this high up was dangerous at best and fatal at worst, and Rhian was already injured. He could try and break through the rock blocking their way, but the tunnel was already unstable. He’d probably just make it cave in completely. 

Tedros looked down at the black water, thinking this had probably all just been pointless. If he even got the crown after this, it was going to be a miracle--

Then Rhian collapsed against him, Tedros’s legs buckled, and they both went over the edge--

Tedros hit the water and thought no more. 

* * *

“Bit of a round table, isn’t it?” said Dot, stopping in the doorway and looking around.

“Not intentionally.” sighed Tedros. “My father had all the meeting room tables made round.”

“Ridiculous.” snorted Ravan, leaning back in his chairs with his boots on the table. 

Tedros muttered a vague agreement as everyone else sat down. 

“Where’s your lady love?” demanded Hester, casting a glance around. 

“Raiding the plants around the back.” said Tedros. “She wasn’t going to come, anyway.”

“This meeting appears to be Nevers only.” said Anadil, looking around at the assembled-- Hester, Anadil, Dot, Ravan, and Tedros. 

“It is.” said Tedros. “I wanted your opinion on something.”  
“Tedros isn’t a Never.” snorted Hester. 

“Did you spend most of the last few months in a coma?” asked Dot dryly. 

“No, Agatha did.” snapped Hester. “I’ll specify; he’s not a _proper_ Never.”

Tedros picked at the wood of the table, irritated and wishing he’d not said anything. He knew full well Hester was probably never going to be impressed about it.

“He killed Japeth.” said Dot, frowning.

“Extremely dramatically.” muttered Ravan. 

“So?”

“So, he--”

“If you wouldn’t mind,” said Tedros sharply. “I didn’t bring you here to fight about whether or not I’m a proper Never.”

Hester turned her gaze on him, unimpressed.

“Then what did you--”

“In the event that I win, I brought you here to ask if you think I should kill Rhian.”

Everyone stopped bickering. 

Dot and Anadil exchanged looks. Hester’s face turned grim. Tedros thought he already knew what her answer would be. 

Ravan, however, dropped his chair onto all four legs with a bang, and turned his gaze coolly on Tedros. 

“Why are you asking us?” he said calmly, sounding mildly interested, as if they were discussing the weather. 

“Because I know that all of the Evers will say no.” said Tedros. “And I want a perspective closer to mine. I’ve spoken to Sophie already, but I--”

“ _Their_ perspective is closer to yours.” snapped Hester. “You’re not one of us.”

“You just can’t stand the fact that you can’t use me as your _punching bag_ anymore!” Tedros lashed back, finally losing his temper. “You’ve ridiculed me for _years,_ and the second it looks like you and I might be on more equal footing than before, you’re still determined to slap me down! You may as well go to _Rhian_ if you’re going to act like I’m still the only person unworthy of your respect--”

“I’m not here for _you,_ I’m here for Agatha!” 

Tedros had always known that, but hearing it out loud stung. 

“Yes,” he said icily. “I’m only accepted on Agatha’s merit quite often.”

“Made obvious by your lack of friends--”

“Teddy and I are friends.” frowned Dot. “Right?”

“--who _aren’t_ just Agatha’s that have to pretend to like you for her sake.” finished Hester icily. 

Tedros reddened like he’d been slapped--

“I never spoke to Agatha, really.” said Ravan idly, watching them through the curtain of his hair. 

Everyone turned to stare at him. He didn’t elaborate.

Hester took a breath--

“There are pros and cons to it.” said Anadil, as calmly as if she hadn’t witnessed the entire argument, stroking one of her rats at the foot of her chair. “Killing Rhian would definitely solidify your appeal in terms of the Evil Kingdoms, but it might make you look unreasonable. It depends if you want that. And keeping him alive might run the risk of another challenge, later on.”

“If he’s beaten badly enough, he won’t want to challenge again.” pointed out Dot. “Daddy gets let off too lightly by Robin because they’re secretly friends, and so he keeps coming back. If you don’t kill him, you’ll have to humiliate him beyond all reason.” 

“There’s no pros to keeping him alive.” snapped Hester. “He’s a smug prick and he deserves to die.”

“There are a few.” said Ravan. “It keeps the Ever kingdoms, especially Foxwood, on your side and leaves Rhian as a walking reminder of your win. It also makes you look more merciful than Japeth. And it _will_ martyr him, if you kill him. Someone will take him as a symbol to pitch a campaign against you.”

“ _Anyone_ is more merciful than Japeth.” muttered Hester. 

“We’ll vote.” said Dot. “Then Teddy can take what we said into account. I think you shouldn’t. Ani?”

“Personally, I’d like to see his head on a spike.” said Anadil. “But I can see why you’d not do it.”

“It’s up to you.” said Ravan calmly. “But I wouldn’t do it. In any other circumstances, I would. But given your precarious claim and the political situation… not a good idea.”

“Kill him.” snapped Hester. “But be prepared for the fact that the betting pools are currently not in your favour.”

“Hester, can I talk to you?” demanded Tedros. “Alone?”

Hester clearly started to say _no--_

“Do it, Hester.” said Anadil, rising with her rat following. “Come on, Dot. Ravan.”

“Anadil--”

Anadil shot her a look as she held the door open for the other two. Dot waved at Tedros as she left. Tedros waited as the door shut, and their footsteps faded-- 

“You let that happen to Agatha.” snarled Hester, the second they were gone.

“Oh.” said Tedros. “ _Oh._ So it’s about that, is it?”

“Yes, it’s about _that.”_

“I’ve already spoken to Agatha about it--”

“Oh, and of course she forgave you, because that’s what she _does,_ but I--”

“Hester, _listen,_ I’d have died if I stayed--”

“BETTER YOU DIED THAN LET JAPETH GET HOLD OF HER!” 

They stared at one another for a second.

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” said Tedros desperately. “I didn’t know he was alive, let alone what he could do--”

“And leaving her with Rhian was much better, was it?”

“She could have gone head to head with Rhian.” snapped Tedros. “She’s just as clever as he is. You treat her like she’s helpless.”

“ _I_ do?” sneered Hester--

“Beating a dead horse, aren’t you?”

Tedros and Hester whirled to see Agatha in the doorway, Reaper dangling from one arm and a basket from the other. 

“Overheard my name.” she said, unimpressed. “Hester, I want your help with these plants.”

“But--”

“Now.” said Agatha coolly. “Tedros, Galahad was looking for you. You need to get fitted for armour.”

Looking distinctly chastened, Hester barged past Tedros and slunk over to stand in the doorway. Agatha bundled Reaper into Tedros’s arms. 

“He keeps trying to eat the poisonous plants. I’ll see you at dinner.”

She kissed his cheek and followed Hester. Hester paused in the doorway, watching him narrowly.

“Hester, come on--”

“Do you _want_ to kill Rhian?” Hester said to Tedros. “Surely that’s the question.”

Tedros looked at her.

He didn’t answer.

Hester turned and left without another word, and Agatha followed her without comment. 

* * *

The next thing he knew, Tedros was being hauled out of the water into a foggy, dark night. 

“God, that portal was a bit off.” said Beatrix’s voice from above him, holding one of his arms. “Chucks them into a river in the trees?”

“Closest body of water, I suppose.” came Ravan’s voice from the other side. “And out of sight of the crowd.”

Coughing and twitching, Tedros tried to get his bearings as they dragged him up the bank. People were shouting and chanting in the distance, stamping their feet and bellowing. 

Ravan shook him. 

“Tedros, can you hear us?”

Tedros must have made some sort of response, because Ravan seemed satisfied, but he could barely hear it over the ringing in his ears. Beatrix sighed, hauling him upright.

“We’re just gonna go through here, really quick, come on-- you can walk--”

They half-dragged, half-carried him through the trees. Too stunned and exhausted to even ask where they were going, Tedros staggered along with them, stumbling over tree roots. There was still shouting in the distance, accompanied by the sound of explosions and drums. Tedros barely paid attention to it as he was led to a tent on the fringe of the field and Ravan ushered him inside.

“Go, quick, get changed--”

He shoved him inside and hurried off. Tedros ducked shakily under the flap, stumbling as it threw him off balance--

A pair of warm arms caught him. 

“You won.” said Agatha. “Tedros, you _won.”_

Tedros doubled over, putting his head against Agatha’s shoulder and trying to regulate his hammering heart rate. Yes. He’d won. And now he had to… 

What did he do now?

“What’s happening?” Beatrix demanded of Agatha, starting to unstrap Tedros’s armour for him. Agatha gently pushed Tedros’s shoulders back, trying to get him to stand upright. It only sort of worked.

“Victory parade back to Tintagel.” she said. “They want Tedros to deliver his verdict there.”

“They think he’s gonna be in a shape to do that?” asked Beatrix doubtfully. 

“Whatever shape he’s in, Rhian’s in a worse one.” said Agatha grimly. 

“Is Sophie with him?”

“I don’t think so.”

Tedros, half-heartedly trying to help with his armour until Beatrix slapped his clumsy hands away, was struck with the image of Rhian, alone in a similar tent, with a shattered leg and the knowledge he was going to be carted back to Tintagel as the loser…

“Tedros, say something.” pushed Agatha, rubbing grime off his face. “You’ve got to make a speech in a few hours.”

Tedros looked helplessly at her. 

“What am I supposed to say?” he croaked. Agatha looked tensely back at him. She still looked sallow. 

“I don’t know.” she admitted. “But they’re baying for blood, out there.”

_How close did she come to dying?_

The stomping of feet from the stands got louder.

* * *

Once Beatrix had gotten all of his armour off, Tedros was flung into a too-hot bath and shakily scrubbed the dust and blood from his skin, digging under his nails for mud and picking shards of rock out of his scalp. He slicked his hair back and slapped some semblance of colour back into his face. Then, new clothes-- another doublet, bloody red, choked with gold fastenings and chains. A matching cloak. Breeches, boots. Gloves.

Someone brought him the crown of Camelot.

He gave it to Agatha and took back the iron one he’d worn on the way. 

He got his swords back, too, looking no worse for wear. He made for the door of the tent-- then paused, listening to the members of the Kingdom Council shouting to the roaring crowd. He couldn’t hear the exact words from here, but the tone was clear. Celebration. 

They’d changed their tune. 

His face darkened, and he stepped out of the tent, trying not to let his exhaustion become too apparent--

Eris appeared at his elbow with a smoking goblet. 

“Drink this, you look dead on your feet.”

Clearly he looked worse than he’d thought. Tedros took it gratefully and threw back a few mouthfuls--

“What is this?” he spluttered as a peppery, acrid taste smacked the back of his throat. 

“Does it matter?” snorted Eris, as his horse was led over to him and Agatha emerged behind them. “It’ll keep you on your feet.”

Tedros sighed and drank the rest, knowing that Eris was at least vaguely trustworthy, by now.

Then he set his face and mounted his horse. 

* * *

The amount of people packed into Tintagel’s crumbling courtyard had to be over a thousand. Tedros looked out at their faces as he stepped up onto the dais, his retinue around him-- the Knights, who’d all hit him with various amounts of force, his white and relieved mother, Eris, Agatha, the Coven, Ravan… Sophie was nowhere to be seen. 

Most of the crowd were cheering, but some looked sullen, or uncertain. It made sense. His verdict was yet to be delivered.

Tedros glanced at the huge dragon banners hung from the walls, and felt a spark of satisfaction. By his side, Agatha nudged him slightly, and smiled at him. She had been given a new overgown, gold over the white, and someone had provided her with gloves and a set of pearls. Several little girls in the crowd were staring at her in wonder. 

Queen Jacinda came to stand before them. Bettina, stood at her side, caught Tedros’s eye and winked at him, mouthing _well done._

“People of the Woods!” cried Jacinda. “Look upon your champion!”

Cheers rose from the crowds. Nevers pounded swords upon the stone. A cluster of Evers clapped demurely. Tedros raised his hand vaguely in acknowledgement, but his attention was elsewhere, drawn to the procession emerging from the right--

“And now,” said Jacinda. “Let the victor deliver his verdict.”

The guards who accompanied Rhian were stripped of all Camelot insignia, including the lion crest, and they kept their faces turned away from him, as if they were ashamed to look upon him. Kei walked silently behind them, face white and eyes downcast. Sophie was nowhere to be seen. It was a pathetic little assembly, really, compared to the grand entrance he’d made to the tournament.

The guards flung Rhian, chained, at Tedros’s feet, ignoring his whimper as his injured leg was jarred. Tedros looked down on him, anger building pressure in his chest. Rhian didn’t look back, looking desperately behind him at Kei. 

Surely he knew Kei could do nothing to help him, now. 

Tedros turned suddenly to the Kingdom Council, standing on the steps nearby.

“Is this how you treat an honourable surrender?” he demanded. They startled and glanced at each other.

“This was what was advised by the Camelot officials--”

“Who had prepared for Rhian to win, not me.” snapped Tedros. “Perhaps I would have been treated this way, but I will not return the favour. Unchain him.”

A pause. 

“ _Now.”_

They did. Rhian finally looked up at him, bewildered, as they unlocked his shackles and sent him sprawling on the steps. 

Jacinda tried to take control of the situation, again.

“King Tedros, please deliver your verdict.”

Tedros looked down at Rhian. Rhian gazed back at him. 

“Get on with it.” he croaked.

He looked a mess; bloodied and filthy, his leg clearly severely damaged-- blood was seeping from in-between the shattered armour. They clearly hadn’t bothered with giving him a change of clothes. For all Tedros knew, they’d thrown him on the floor in a tent and left him there until it was time to leave. They probably had. He could barely hold himself up as he rolled over, supporting himself on shaking arms. 

“With what?” said Tedros. 

Rhian bared his teeth in something between a wry smile and a grimace. Blood and grime smeared his mouth and lips.

“Killing me.” he croaked. 

Tedros stared at him, fighting between revulsion and pity. 

“That’s what you’re expecting?” 

“Of course. That’s what you’ll deliver.” Rhian put his head against the cold stone. “Please. Make it quick.”

Tedros glanced at Agatha, who looked uncertain, and caught sight of the Coven and Ravan watching him from the shadows, faces grim. He turned back and his eyes fell on a cluster of people at the front of the crowd. 

The Camelot delegation, come to set eyes on the ruined remains of their Lion. 

The guards, the supporters with Lion flags dragging in the mud at their side. The advisors. The pirates, in a huddle that suggested they knew they weren’t keeping their jobs, and their heads weren’t in a much more secure position, either.

There was movement beside him, and Tedros and Rhian both looked over at Sophie, coming to stand beside Agatha. Dressed in black like a widow, she looked back at Rhian, mane of loose hair blowing in the wind. 

Neither said a word, but Tedros got the distinct impression Rhian was remembering something. 

He lowered his head and looked away. Sophie’s mouth curled in a cruel little quirk, and Tedros knew she had far more to do with this than he’d realised. He needed to ask her, later.

“Your judgement, please.” said Queen Jacinda. Tedros drew breath--

Kei finally broke. 

“Tedros, please! Don’t kill him, don’t-- you can’t--” He rushed forward, looking desperately between Agatha and Tedros, eyes wide in the most emotion Tedros had ever seen on his face. Tedros thought they both knew his plea carried practically no weight. He was a known traitor to both claimants, had no political advantage, had nothing to offer.

Rhian turned to look incredulously at Kei. Clearly he’d not expected this. 

People started to chant; Nevers in the crowd. 

_“KILL HIM! KILL HIM!”_

Rhian’s face struggled as Kei grabbed him, holding him up, and Tedros knew it was all bravado. He didn’t want to die. 

_We were brothers, once._

“Kei, I’m sorry--” croaked Rhian amongst the chanting, trying to touch his face. Kei shushed him, looking desperately at Tedros--

“Rhian Mistral,” said Tedros. The crowd went silent almost immediately, eyes wide. “I have decided to spare your life.”

In the stunned pause, he saw the Coven and Ravan look at each other. 

“As you said, we were once brothers.” said Tedros. “You have done unforgivable things in pursuit of the crown, but you too, were deceived. I do not wish to have you killed. You will be sent to live in exile, in Foxwood. You may take the Captain with you. If you return unlawfully, or stage any kind of coup, you will be sentencing yourself to death. But I will not have it be said I am not merciful. Your brother is dead at my hands, but you will live by them. I cannot forgive you for what you have done. But I can spare you. I want you to always reflect on what you’ve done.” 

The assembled started to mutter, bewildered, passing on his words--

Then people started to cheer-- Evers, mostly. A few Nevers. Not everyone; never everyone. But it was hard to resent mercy. 

Kei stared at Tedros in shock, hands slack on Rhian’s shoulders--

Rhian staggered up the remaining steps, seized Tedros’s hands, and kissed them, shaking so hard Tedros had to hold him up.

“Thank you,” he gasped. “Thank you.”

Tedros drew his hands back as Kei came to help Rhian down the steps. It was true; he would never forgive Rhian fully. But he didn’t want him dead, like he had Japeth--

He turned and found Hester watching him.

She nodded, once, then turned away to Anadil. 

Tedros glanced back--

And found Rhian scrabbling at his belt. With shaking hands, he drew Excalibur, and turned to Agatha. Tedros went for Caliburn, people cried out--

He plunged it into the stone at her feet.

“Have it.” he croaked. “I know you can draw it. You need to take it.”

Tedros turned, confused--

With no comment, Agatha turned and took the hilt of the sword.

She drew it from stone as easily as Tedros had taken Caliburn from Nimue. 

* * *

Rhian left Tintagel the next day. 

Sitting on the crumbling steps in the muggy early morning, hunched over to disguise his face, he watched Kei yoke the horse to the ancient carriage, and hoped no one would see them leave. 

He’d left Tedros a note with all the details he needed to know; the location of the documents he’d exposed him with, should he want them. The Camelot Beautiful details. Money spent. The fact he’d had Merlin sent to the Caves of Contempo. 

He’d also enclosed two extra notes. One to Agatha, apologising, and another-- unsigned, just a scrap of paper.

_You win._

Out of the two games he’d lost that day, he knew which one stung more.   
But Tedros had shown him mercy, even if it had been with a look that suggested he’d do differently, next time. But there would not be a next time. Rhian was pragmatic enough to know that. Even if he wanted to-- and he didn’t want to-- Tedros would run him down if he tried. Japeth would have tried again. But Japeth was dead, and there was Rhian’s proof for how far Tedros’s mercy stretched. 

Japeth was dead.

Thank god. 

He could admit that, now. His raging, wrathful brother was dead, and he was relieved. He’d been tempted to thank Tedros for it. Complicit as he may have been in Japeth’s transgressions, he could hardly feel grief for him. But he’d left it out of the letter. It had been long enough. 

Rhian was nothing if not thorough, even if he was the loser. 

And he _was_ the loser, he reminded himself. He hadn’t thought he’d live long enough to even realise it. But here he was. He’d been grateful at the time, but now, as the hot spike of shame started to penetrate the numbing shock of his inverted worldview… perhaps it had been the crueller choice for Tedros to leave him alive, after all. 

_I want you to always reflect on what you’ve done._

It didn’t feel particularly merciful. 

Rhian hauled himself to his feet and lumbered over to Kei on his newly-repaired leg, pulling the hood of his cloak over his head. How odd it felt, to wear ordinary clothes. He’d spent the last year either in guard’s livery, King’s clothes, or the guise of the Lion. Now… well. Now, he was nothing. 

He quickened his pace, hoping to leave faster, and ignoring how a lance of pain rolled through his bad leg-- then reached the carriage and found that Kei was looking past him. 

Rhian turned to follow his gaze, and noticed someone on one of the overlooking balconies; Agatha, leaning on the balustrade, watching them. Tedros was nowhere to be seen. It seemed he wasn’t interested in seeing them off. 

Rhian didn’t think he blamed him. 

Trapped in the slightly muddled fog of his numb brain, he accepted Kei’s hand up, and, without knowing why, glanced back. Agatha was wearing Excalibur at her side; he could see the shadow of the scabbard at her hip. 

“They’re going back to Camelot, today.” murmured Kei, seeming to notice, too. “Holding the wedding there.”

“Oh.” Rhian frowned, thinking of the last failed wedding. “In the chapel?”

“Seeing as I heard Agatha suggest burning the chapel down as part of the nuptials, I don’t think so.”

“Ah.”

Then, to his surprise, Agatha acknowledged them. 

She straightened up and raised a hand in farewell, before turning and disappearing back inside, shutting the doors behind her. 

Another of those quick spikes of guilt jabbed Rhian, and he jerked his head away. Odd girl. He’d never been able to fathom Agatha. Had she not been under Japeth’s control, he found it highly likely he’d have not been a match for her. 

The thought unsettled him, and he hunched over himself again as Kei climbed into the driver’s seat and spurred the horses on, glad that no one else was around to see them. Even this rickety old carriage was too reminiscent of the ride to Four Point. 

At least Sophie wasn’t with him, this time. 

Damned witch. She’d beaten him fair and square. 

He twisted around for one last, nervous look, checking to see if no one was around--

And although he’d never be able to prove it, Rhian was sure he saw two overly familiar shadows on one of the breezeways, watching them recede into the distance. 

_By my father’s blood, you’ll be sorry._

_And you think that you,_ **_you_ ** _, a sadistic little boy with a wobbly claim to your daddy’s throne, can manipulate_ **_me_ ** _?_

Yes, Rhian had lost two games that day. 

He should have known. 

Shaking slightly, he turned firmly away from Tintagel, and from Camelot, looking back towards Foxwood. He could still do… something. Do some good. Go back to Arbed, find more kids like him. Steer them away from getting into the mess he had. 

Still, he didn’t think the Camelot throne was going to become precarious again for a very long time. 

These Evers-turned-Nevers were too goddamn clever for their own good. 

The castle was barely out of sight before Rhian started to cry. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D hope you enjoyed!!! I finished rewriting the end of this about 40 minutes before I had to post it bc I didn't like the original ending lmao. I'll show it you if you want. Anyway thank you to everyone who read this!! I know it's long!!! I'm sorry!!! dhkjssj.

**Author's Note:**

> :D  
> okay if you got this far, I am SO SORRY it's so long I couldn't help myself, I'm pretty sure the other two parts are a bit shorter. please let me know what you thought!!! the long-anticipated fic!!! I am SO proud of this part in particular jshdjssj.


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